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COMEDIETTAS AND FARCES. 



X^' 




JOHN MADDISON MORTON. 



PKEFACE. 



I HAVE been asked to write a few words of Preface to 
this little book of Plays. I may state that two are original ; 
for the remainder (being too old an offender in this respect 
to do otherwise), I thankfully admit my indebtedness to 
French material, claiming, however, for myself, considerable 
alterations in plot, situations, etc., and complete originality 
of dialogue. 

I beg to call the attention of Amateurs to these pieces — 
they having been written by me with a special view to 
Private performance. 

John Maddison Morton. 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

BOX AND COX 11 

FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED 35 

pepperpot's little pets 61 

after a storm comes a calm 85 

express! 106 

taken from the french 125 

declined — with thanks 147 



JOHN MADDISOlSr MOETOK 



The present generation is familiar enough with ** Box and 
Cox," that best and brightest of good old English farces, 
and hundreds of other plays of the same kind, that were 
written years ago by one of the driest of humorists and 
most genial of gentlemen ; but few young play-goers, I take 
it, are aware how much the stage owes to John Maddison 
Morton. Of the form and features of one of the most pro- 
lific writers for the stage, I believe many of my own con- 
temporaries to be absolutely ignorant. They know little of 
his antecedents or history, and yet they, and thdir fathers 
before them, have laughed right merrily over the quips and 
cranks, the quaint turns of expression, the odd freaks of hu- 
mor that distinguished a writer of fun belonging to the old 
school. No one has ever filled the place left vacant by John 
Maddison Morton. Managers for many years past have as- 
sumed that the public does not want farces, and are content 
to tolerate badly-acted rubbish before the play of the even- 
ing begins. But a strong reaction is setting in. The pit 
and gallery are not content any longer to remain open- 
mouthed while the scenes of the play of the evening are 
being set, or to be deluded into applauding the silly stuff 
that is nowadays served up as farce, and in which the prin- 
cipal actors and actresses do not condescend to appear. 
Why, when I first began to consider myself a regular play- 



VI JOHN MADDISON MORTON. 

goer, some five-and-twenty years ago, when I struggled with 
the young m.eu of my time into the pit, I could see, quite 
irrespective of the play of the evening, Webster at the Adel- 
phi in " One Touch of Nature," say at seven o'clock in the 
evening ; Toole and Paul Bedford and Selby and Billington 
and Bob Romer, always in some favorite farce that began 
or ended the evening's amusement, at the Haymarket ; Buck- 
stone, old Rogers, and Chippendale in such plays as " The 
Rough Diamond," at the Haymarket, with an after-farce for 
Compton, Howe, and Walter Gordon ; and at the Strand 
such excellent little plays as "Short and Sweet" or the 
" Fair Encounter," in which we were sure to find Jemmy 
Rogers and Johnnie Clarke, and most probably Belford, 
Marie Wilton, Fanny Josephs, and Miss Swanborough. In 
those days artists were not above their business, which was, 
and ever should be, to amuse the public ; they were not taken 
up and patronized by society; they did not lecture their 
audiences, but were modest, hard-working, and unassuming. 
There were no young fops in the ranks of the dramatic pro- 
fession with extravagant salaries and diminutive talent, and 
the young ladies who adopted the profession had to work, 
and work hard, in order to obtain a name. Farces were then 
well acted, for the simple reason that the best members of 
the company played in them. It was worth paying for the 
pit at half or full price when Robson was set down for " Re- 
tained for the Defence" or "Boots at the Swan," and when 
Leigh Murray, most accomplished of comedians, appeared 
in " His First Champagne." 

John Maddison Morton was born on January 3, 1811, at 
the lovely Thames-side village of Pangborne, above Read- 
ing. His father was the famous dramatist Thomas Morton, 



JOHN MADDISON MORTON. Vli 

author of " Speed the Plough," " Town and Country," "The 
Way to get Married," " Secrets worth Knowing," " Cure for 
the Heartache," " School of Reform," etc. The elder Mor- 
ton resided at Pangborne for thirty -five years, and only 
removed to London in 1828. It must have been on the 
lovely reaches, back-waters, and weirs of the lovely Thames 
that the future author of " Box and Cox " acquired such a 
love of angling, and became so enthusiastic and excellent a 
fisherman. A few years ago I was in the habit of meeting 
Maddison Morton at the hospitable table of my old friend 
Robert Reece. They were both members of the old Dra- 
matic Authors' Society, and on committee days Reece would 
bring the jovial dramatist home to dinner, when, over a glass 
of old port-wine, and with frequent intervals of snuff-taking, 
he would delight us with stories of actors, and many advent- 
ures with the rod and line. In fact, he told us that he de- 
voted the best part of his after-life to two principal objects, 
" Fishing and Farce-writing." 

But to return to his younger days. He was educated in 
Paris and Germany from 1817 to 1820. After that he went 
to school at Islington for a short time, and from 1820 to 
1827 we find the future dramatist at Dr. Richardson's cele- 
brated seminary at Clapham. Under the roof of the fa- 
mous author of the English dictionary he found, and soon 
took for companions, Julian Young, Charles James Math- 
ews, John Kemble, Henry Kemble, John Liston, Dick Tat- 
tersall, young Terry, son of Terry the actor, whose widow 
subsequently married the lexicographer. Dr. Richardson. In 
1832 Maddison Morton was appointed to a clerkship in 
Chelsea Hospital by Lord John Russell, but he did not ap- 
pear to relish the desk any more than his subsequent friends. 



viii JOHN MADDISON MORTON. 

W. S. Gilbert and Robert Reece. He did not wait patient- 
ly for a pension, like Tom Taylor, Anthony Trollope, etc., 
but got sick of government office-work in 1840, when he 
resigned his situation. 

It was in April, 1835, that Maddison Morton produced 
his first farce at the little theatre in Tottenham Street des- 
tined afterwards to flourish as the Prince of Wales Theatre, 
and to be the nursery of Robertsonian comedy. The farce 
was called " My First Fit of the Gout," and the principal 
parts were played by Wrench, Morris Barrett, and Mrs. Nis- 
bett. As I have said before, Maddison Morton lived in the 
happy days when farces were popular, when programmes 
were ample, and when actors were not ashamed of their 
work. Among the cultivated artists who have played in 
Maddison Morton's farces are the elder Farren, Liston, Kee- 
ley, Buckstone, Wright, Compton, Harley, Robson, Mrs. 
Glover, Mrs. Stirling, Charles Mathews, and many more of 
our own day, such as Toole, Howe, etc. 

I once asked Maddison Morton some particulars concern- 
ing his subsequent career as a dramatist, when he observed, 
quaintly enough, " My dear boy, it would never do for me 
to blow my own trumpet. In the first place, I haven't got 
one, and I am sure I could not blow it if I had." It is 
sometimes brought as a charge against Maddison Morton 
that his plays are taken from the French, and as such are 
devoid of original merit. But how little such as these un- 
derstand Maddison Morton or his incomparable style. He 
may have borrowed his plots from France, but what trace 
of French writing is to be found in the immortal " Box and 
Cox," or " Woodcock's Little Game ?" " Box and Cox " is 
taken from two French farces, one called " Frisette," and 



JOHN MADDISON MORTON. IX 

the other "Une Chambre a Deux Lits," but the writing of 
the farce as much belongs to the man, and is as distinctly 
original and personal to him as anything ever said or writ- 
ten by Henry James Byron. For my own poor part, I con- 
sider that Maddison Morton is funnier than any writer for 
the stage in his day. It is the kind of dry, sententious hu- 
mor that tickles one far more than the extravagances, the 
puns, and the strained tomfooleries of the modern writer of 
burlesque — the very burlesque that Maddison Morton con- 
siders was the death-blow to the old-fashioned English farce. 
Players may yet find it profitable to revive the taste for 
short farces, and they need not hesitate to do so because 
several excellent and funny plays by the author of "Box 
and Cox " remain unused. Benjamin Webster told Mad- 
dison Morton, not long before his death, that he had made 
more money by farces than by any other description of 
drama. This is not diflScult to account for. The author 
was certainly not overpaid; the farces were evidently well 
acted ; it cost next to nothing to produce them, and if suc- 
cessful, the world and his wife went to see them. 

Writing to a friend the ether day, Maddison Morton ob- 
serves : "The introduction of 'Burlesque' gave the first 
' knock-down blow ' to the old-fashioned farce. I hoped 
against hope that its popularity would return, and that 
some employment might still be found for my pen. I was 
disappointed ; and as the only means of discharging liabili- 
ties which I had in the mean time unavoidably contracted, 
I was compelled to part with my copyrights, the accumula- 
tion of a life's laborious and not unsuccessful work." 

It is interesting to note that Maddison Morton's "Box 
and Cox " was the pioneer of the movement that resulted 



X JOHN MADDISON MORTON. 

in the literary and musical partnership of Gilbert and Sulli^ 
van. If it had not been for Burnand's " Cox and Box," in 
all probability the " Sorcerer '' and the rest of the operas 
would never have been written. And happily the reign of 
Maddison Morton is not yet over. On Monday, December 
7, 1885, was produced at Toole's Theatre a three-act farce 
called '' Going It," that kept the house in a continual roar 
of laughter. It is in the old vein, bright, witty, and bris- 
tling with verbal quip. When the farce was over the call 
for "author" was raised, but no one imagined that it would 
be responded to. To the surprise of all, Mr. Toole led on 
an elderly gentleman of the old school, prim, neat, well set 
up, and rosy-cheeked as a winter apple. This was Mad- 
dison Morton. At last the young play-goer had seen the 
author of " Box and Cox." 

In the year 1881, on the nomination of her Majesty, this 
great and accomplished gentleman, who never mixed in Bo- 
hemian or literary society, was appointed a "poor brother 
of the Charter House." Who that has read Thackeray is 
not familiar with the fine old hospital of " Greyfriars," and 
its pleasant old " codds," under whose shadow and in whose 
society Colonel Newcome breathed his last, and said "Ad- 
sum." Here in this pleasant retreat, quiet and retired al- 
though in the heart of the busiest part of the city, Maddi- 
son Morton met another " brother," John A. Heraud, a 
dramatist and dramatic critic who had often sat in judg- 
ment on Morton's plays. What chats about old times they 
must have within those venerable walls that circle round 
the poet-dramatist and the dramatic farce-writer. " Here," 
writes Maddison Morton, in his well-known cheerful and con- 
tented frame of mind, " I shall doubtless spend the short 



JOHN MADDISON MORTON. ' Xl 

time I may have to live, and then be laid in the quiet little 
church-yard at Bow — not, I hope, entirely * unwept, unhon- 
ored, nor unsung.' " 

Good, kindly, gentle heart thus to speak with such fer- 
vor and such faith in the long evening of your days ! Shut 
up in your cloistered home, the hearts of those who had the 
honor and pleasure of knowing you often go out to you ! 
And on the stage the laughter evoked by your fanciful wit, 
and the true humor that sprung from your merry heart, will 
soothe you and delight many more who honor your excel- 
lent name. n c^ 

Clement Scott. 



BOX AND COX. 

In <!^ne ^ct. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 

John Box, a Journeyman Printer. James Cox, a Journeyman Hatter. 

Mrs. Bouncer. 



COSTUMES. 



Box. — Small swallow - tailed black ooat, short buff waistcoat, light 
drab trousers, short, turned up at bottom, black stockings, white 
canvas boots with black tips, cotton neck-cloth, shabby black hat. 

Cox.— Brown Newmarket coat, long white waistcoat, dark plaid trou- 
sers, boots, white hat, black stock. 

Mrs. Bouncer.— Colored cotton gown, apron, cap, etc. 

Exits anp Entranoks.— R. means Right; L., Left; R. D., Right Door; L. D., 
Left Door ; S. E., Second Entrance; U. E., Upper Entrance; M. D., Mid- 
dle Door ; F., the Flat ; D. F., Door in Flat. 

Relative Fosnioi^s.—U. menus Right ; L.,Left; C, Centre; B.. C^ Right of 
Centre; L. C, Left of Centre. 



Scene. — A room decently furnished. At c. a bed, with cur- 
tains closed; at l. c. a door; at l. Sd e. a door; at l. s. e. a 
chest of drawers; at back, r., a window; at r. Sd E. a door; at r. 
s. E. a fireplace, with mantle-piece, table, and chairs, and afeio 
common ornaments on chimney-piece. Cox, dressed, with the 
exception of his coat, is looking at himself in a small looking- 
glass, which is in his hand. 

Cox. I've half a mind to register an oath that I'll never have 
my hair cut again! {His hair is very short.) I look as if I had 
Just been cropped for the militia. And I was particularly eni' 



12 BOX AND COX. 

phatic in my instructions to the hair - dresser only to cut the 
ends off. He must have thought I meant the other ends ! Nev- 
er mind — I sha'n't meet anybody to care about so early. Eight 
o'clock, I declare ! I haven't a moment to lose. Fate has placed 
me with the most punctual, particular, and peremptory of hatters, 
and I must fulfil my destiny. {Knock at l. d.) Open locks, 
whoever knocks ! 

Enter Mrs. Bouncer, l. 

Mrs. B. Good-morning, Mr. Cox. I hope you slept comfort- 
ably, Mr. Cox? 

Cox. I can't say I did, Mrs. B. I should feel obliged to you 
if you could accommodate me with a more protuberant bolster, 
Mrs. B. The one I've got now seems to me to have about a hand- 
ful and a half of feathers at each end, and nothing whatever in 
the middle. 

Mrs. B. Anything to accommodate you, Mr. Cox. 

Cox. Thank you. Then perhaps you'll be good enough to 
hold this glass while I finish my toilet ? 

Mrs. B. Certainly {liolding glass before Cox, who ties his cravat). 
Why, I do declare, you've had your hair cut. 

Cox. Cut ! It strikes me I've had it mowed ! It's very kind 
of you to mention it, but I'm sufficiently conscious of the ab- 
surdity of my personal appearance already. {Puts on his coat.) 
Now for my hat. {Puts on his hat, which comes over his eyes.) 
That's the effect of having one's hair cut. This hat fitted me 
quite tight before. Luckil}'' I've got two or three more. {Ooes 
in at L., and returns with three hats of different shapes, and puts 
them on, one after the other — all of which are too big for him.) 
This is pleasant ! Never mind. This one appears to me to wab- 
ble about rather less than the others. {Puts on hat. ) And now I'm 
off ! By-the-bye, Mrs. Bouncer, I wish to call your attention to 
a fact that has been evident to me for some time past— and that 
is, that my coals go remarkably fast— 



BOX AND COX. 13 

Mrs. B. Lor, Mr. Cox! 

Cox. It is not the case only with the coals, Mrs. Bouncer, but 
I've lately observed a gradual and steady increase of evaporation 
among my candles, wood, sugar, and lucifer-matches. 

Mrs. B. Lor, Mr. Cox! you surely don't suspect me? 

Cox. I don't say I do, Mrs. B. ; only I wish you distinctly to 
understand that I don't believe it's the cat. 

Mrs. B. Is there anything else you've got to grumble about, 
sir? 

Cox. Grumble ! Mrs. Bouncer, do you possess such a thing 
as a dictionary? 

Mrs. B. No, sir. 

Cox. Then I'll lend you one; and if you turn to the letter 
G, you'll find "Grumble, verb neuter — to complain without a 
cause. " Now, that's not my case, Mrs. B. ; and now that we are 
upon the subject, I wish to know how it is that I frequently find 
my apartment full of smoke? 

Mrs. B. Why— I suppose the chimney — 

Cox. The chimney doesn't smoke tobacco. I'm speaking of 
tobacco-smoke, Mrs. B. I hope, Mrs. Bouncer, you're not guilty 
of cheroots or Cubas? 

Mrs. B. Not I, indeed, Mr. Cox. 

Cox. Nor partial to a pipe? 

Mrs. B. No, sir. 

Cox. Then, how is it that— 

Mrs. B. Why — I suppose — yes — that must be it — 

Cox. At present I am entirely of your opinion — because I 
haven't the most distant particle of an idea what you mean. 

Mrs. B. Why, the gentleman who has got the attics is hardly 
ever without a pipe in his mouth — and there he sits, with his 
feet upon the mantle-piece — 

Cox. The mantle-piece ! That strikes me as being a consider- 
able stretch, either of your imagination, Mrs. B., or the gentle^ 
man's legs. I presume you mean the fender or the hob. 



14 BOX AND COX. 

Mrs. B. Sometimes one, sometimes t'other. Well, there he 
sits for hours, and puffs away into the fireplace. 

Cox. Ah, then you mean to say that this gentleman's smoke, 
instead of emulating the example of all other sorts of smoke, 
and going up the chimney, thinks proper to effect a singularity 
by taking the contrary direction? 
Mrs.B. Why- 
Cox. Then, I suppose, the gentleman you are speaking of is 
the same individual that I invariably meet coming up -stairs 
-when I'm going down, and going down-stairs when I'm coming 
up! 
Mrs. B. Why— yes— I — 

Cox. From the appearance of his outward man, I should un- 
hesitatingly set him down as a gentleman connected with the 
printing interest. 

Mrs. B. Yes, sir — and a very respectable young gentleman 
he is. 

Cox. Well, good-morning, Mrs. Bouncer. 
Mrs. B. You'll be back at your usual time, I suppose, six? 
Cox. Yes— nine o'clock. You needn't light my fire in future, 
Mrs. B., I'll do it myself. Don't forget the bolster! {Going, 
stops.) A halfpenny worth of milk, Mrs. Bouncer; and be good 
enough to let it stand— I wish the cream to accumulate. 

[^Exit at L. c. 
Mrs. B. He's gone at last! I declare I was all in a tremble 
for fear Mr. Box would come in before Mr. Cox went out. Luck- 
ily, they've never met yet ; and what's more, they're not very like- 
ly to do so ; for Mr. Box is hard at work at a newspaper oflSce all 
night, and doesn't come home till the morning, and Mr. Cox is 
busy making hats all day long, and doesn't come home till night ; 
so that I'm getting double rent for my room, and neither of my 
lodgers is any the wiser for it. It was a capital idea of mine — 
that it was! But I haven't an instant to lose. First of all, let 
me put Mr. Cox's things out of Mr. Box's way. {8he takes the 



BOX AND COX. 15 

three hats, Cox's dressing-gown and slippers, opens door at l. and 
puts them in, then shuts door and locks it. ) Now, then, to put the 
key where Mr. Cox always finds it. {Puts the key on the ledge of 
the door, l. ) I really must beg Mr. Box not to smoke so much. 
I was so dreadfully puzzled to know what to say when Mr. Cox 
spoke about it. Now, then, to make the bed; and don't let me 
forget that what's the head of the bed for Mr. Cox becomes the 
foot of the bed for Mr. Box — people's tastes do differ so. {Goes 
behind the curtains of the bed, and seems to be making it; then ap- 
pears with a very thin bolster in her hand.) The idea of Mr. Cox 
presuming to complain of such a bolster as this ! {8he disap- 
pears again behind curtains. ) 

Box {icithout). Pooh — pooh! Why don't you keep your own 
side of the staircase, sir? {Enters at back, dressed as a printer. 
Puts his head out at door again, shouting. ) It was as much your 
fault as mine, sir ! I say, sir — it was as much your fault as mine, 
sir! 

Mrs. B. {emerging from behind the curtains of bed). Lor, Mr. 
Box! what is the matter? 

Box, Mind your own business. Bouncer! 

Mrs. B. Dear, dear, Mr. Box! what a temper you are in, to be 
sure! I declare you're quite pale in the face! 

Box. What color would you have a man be who has been 
setting up long leaders for a daily paper all night? 

Mrs. B. But, then, you've all the day to yourself. 

Box {looking significantly at Mrs. Bouncer). So it seems ! Far 
be it from me. Bouncer, to hurry your movements, but I think it 
right to acquaint you with my immediate intention of divesting 
myself of my garments, and going to bed. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Mr. Box ! {going). 

Box. Stop! Can you inform me who the individual is that I 
invariably encounter going down-stairs when I'm coming up, 
and coming up-stairs when I'm going down? 

Mrs. B. {confused). Oh — yes — the gentleman in the attic, sir. 
2 



16 BOX AND COX. 

Box. Oh! There's nothing particularly remarkable about 
him, except his hats. I meet him in all sorts of hats— white hats 
and black hats— hats with broad brims and hats with narrow 
brims — hats with naps and hats without naps — in short, I have 
come to the conclusion that he must be individually and pro- 
fessionally associated with the hatting interest. 

Mrs. B. Yes, sir. And, by-the-bye, Mr. Box, he begged me to 
request of you, as a particular favor, that you would not smoke 
quite so much. 

Box. Did he? < Then you may tell the gentle hatter, with my 
compliments, that if he objects to the eflfluvia of tobacco, he had 
better domesticate himself in some adjoining parish. 

Mrs. B. Oh, Mr. Box ! you surely wouldn't deprive me of a 
lodger ? {'pathetically). 

Box. It would come to precisely the same thing, Bouncer; be- 
cause if I detect the slightest attempt to put my pipe out, I at 
once give you warning that I shall give you warning at once. 

Mrs. B. Well, Mr. Box — do you want anything more of me? 

Box. On the contrary— I've had quite enough of you ! 

Mrs. B. Well, if ever! What next, I wonder? 

{^Goes out at l. c, slamming door after her. 

Box. It's quite extraordinary, the trouble I always have to get 
rid of that venerable female! She knows I'm up all night, and •. 
yet she seems to set her face against my indulging in a horizon- 
tal position by day. Now, let me see — shall I take my nap be- 
fore I swallow my breakfast, or shall I take my breakfast before 
I swallow my nap — I mean, shall I swallow my nap before — 
Noi never mind! I've got a rasher of bacon somewhere {feeling 
in his pockets). I've the most distinct and vivid recollection of 
having purchased a rasher of bacon — Oh, here it is {jn'oduces it, 
wrapped in paper, and places it on table) ; and a penny roll. The 
next thing is to light the fire. Where are my lucifers? {Looking 
on mantle-piece, B,.,and taking box, opens it.) Now, 'pon my life, 
this is too bad of Bouncer — this is, by several degrees, too bad ! 



BOX AND COX. 17 

I had a whole boxful three days ago, and now there's only- 
one! I'm perfectly aware that she purloins my coals and my 
candles and my sugar, but I did think — oh, yes, I did think 
that my lucif ers would be sacred ! ( Takes candlestick off the man- 
tle-piece, R., in loMch there is a very small end of candle; looks at 
it.) Now I should like to ask any unprejudiced person or per- 
sons their opinion touching this candle. In the first place, a 
candle is an article that I don't require, because I'm only at home 
in the day-time ; and I bought this candle on the first of May — 
Chimney-sweepers' Day — calculating that it would last me three 
months, and here's one week not half over, and the candle three 
parts gone! {Lights the fire; then takes down a gridiron which is 
hanging over the fireplace, r. ) Mrs. Bouncer has been using my 
gridiron ! The last article of consumption that I cooked upon it 
was a pork-chop, and now it is powerfully impregnated with the 
odor of red herrings ! {Places gridiron on fire, and then with fork 
lays rasher of hacon on the gridiron.) How sleepy I am, to be 
sure ! I'd indulge myself with a nap, if there was anybody here 
to superintend the turning of my bacon. (Yawning again.) Per- 
haps it will turn itself. I must lie down — so, here goes. (Lies 
on the bed, dosiiig the curtains round him. After a short pause — 

Enter Cox, hurriedly, l. c. 

Cox, Well, wonders will never cease ! Conscious of being 
eleven minutes and a half behind time, I was sneaking into the 
shop, in a state of considerable excitement, when my venerable 
employer, with a smile of extreme benevolence on his aged coun- 
tenance, said to me, "Cox, I sha'n't want you to-day; you can 
have a holiday. " Thoughts of ' ' Gravesend and back — fare. One 
Shilling," instantly suggested themselves, intermingled with vis- 
ions of ' ' Greenwich for Fourpence !" Then came the Twopenny 
Omnibuses, and the Halfpenny boats — in short, I'm quite be- 
wildered! However, I must have my breakfast first — that'll 
give me time to reflect. I've bought a mutton-chop, so I sha'n't 



18 BOX AND COX. 

want any dinner. {Puts cTwp on table.) Good gracious! I've 
forgot tlie bread. Holloa! what's this? A roll, I declare! Come, 
that's lucky! Now, then, to light the fire. Holloa! {seeing the 
lucifer-hax on table) who presumes to touch my box of lucifers? 
Why, it's empty! I left one in it — I'll take my oath I did. Hey- 
day ! Why, the fire is lighted ! Where's the gridiron ? On the fire, 
I declare! And what's that on it? Bacon? Bacon it is! Well, 
now, 'pon my life, there's a quiet coolness about Mrs. Bouncer's 
proceedings that's almost amusing. She takes my last lucifer — 
my coals and my gridiron to cook her breakfast by ! No, no — 
I can't stand this! Come out of that! {Pokes fork into bacon, 
and puts it on a plate on the table; then places his chop on the grid- 
iron, which he puts on the fire.) Now, then, for my breakfast- 
things. {Taking key, hung up, l., opens door l. and goes out sla7n- 
ming the door after him with a hud noise.) 

Box {suddenly showing his head from behind the curtains). 
Come in! if it's you, Mrs. Bouncer — you needn't be afraid. I 
wonder how long I've been asleep? {Suddenly recollecting.) 
Goodness gracious— my bacon! {Leaps off bed and runs to the 
fireplace.) Holloa! what's this? A chop! Whose chop? Mrs. 
Bouncer's, I'll be bound. She thought to cook her breakfast 
while I was asleep — with my coals, too — and my gridiron! Ha, 
ha! But Where's my bacon? {Seeing it on table.) Here it is. 
Well, 'pon my life. Bouncer's going it! And shall I curb my in- 
dignation? shall I falter in my vengeance? No! {Digs the fork 
into the chop, opens window, and throws chop out; shuts win- 
doio again. ) So much for Bouncer's breakfast ; and now for my 
own! {With tJie fork he puts the bacon on the gridiron again.) 
I may as well lay my breakfast-things. {Ooes to mantle-piece at 
R., takes key out of one of the ornaments, opens door at r. and exit, 
slamming door after him.) 

Cox {putting his head in quickly at l.). Come in — come in! 
{Opens door, l. c. Enters with a small tray, on which are tea-things, 
etc., which he places on drawers, l., and suddenly recollects.) Oh, 



BOX AND COX. 19 

goodness ! my chop! {running to fireplace). Holloa — what's that? 
The bacon again ! Oh, pooh ! Zounds — confound it — dash it — 
damn it— I can't stand this ! {Pokes fork into hacon, opens win- 
dow and flings it out; shuts window again, returns to drawers for 
tea-things, and encounters Box coming from his cupboard with his 
tea-things. They walk down c. of stage together. ) Who are you, 
sir? 

Box. If you come to that— who are yoii ? 

Cox. What do you want here, sir? 

Box. If you come to that — what do you want? 

Cox {aside). It's the printer! {Puts tea-things on the draicers.) 

Box {aside). It's the hatter ! {Puts tea-things o?i table.) 

Cox. Go to your attic, sir — 

Box, il/^ attic, sir? rbwr attic, sir! 

Cox. Printer, I shall do you a frightful injury if you don't 
instantly leave my apartment. 

Box. Your apartment? You mean 7ny apartment, you con- 
temptible hatter, you ! 

Cox. Your apartment? Ha! ha! — come, I like that! Look 
here, sir. {P)'oduces a paper out of Jiis pocket. ) Mrs. Bouncer's re- 
ceipt for the last week's rent, sir — 

Box {produces a paper, and holds it close to Cox's face). Ditto, 
sir! 

Cox {suddenly shouting). Thieves ! 

Box. Murder! 

Both. Mrs. Bouncer! {Each runs to door, l. c, calling.) 

Mks. Bouncer runs in at door, l. c. 
Mrs. B. What is the matter? (Cox and Box seize Mrs. Boun- 
cer by the arm and drag her forward.) 
Box. Instantly remove that hatter ! 
Cox. Immediately turn out that printer! 
Mrs. B. Well, but, gentlemen — 
Cox. Explain! {Pulling her round to him.) 



20 BOX AND COi. 

Box, Explain! {Pulling her round to Mm.) Whose room is 
this? 

Cox. Yes, woman — whose room is this? 

Box. Doesn't it belong to me? 

Mrs. B. No! 

Cox. There! You hear, sir — it belongs to me! 

Mrs. B. No— it belongs to both of you! {sobbing). 

Cox and Box. Both of us? 

Mrs. B. Oh, dear gentlemen, don't be angry — but, you see, this 
gentleman {pointing to Box, only being at home in the day- 
time, and that gentleman {pointing to Cox) at night, I thought 
I might venture, until my little back second -floor room was 
ready — 

Box and Cox {eagerly). When will your little back second- 
floor room be ready? 

Mrs. B. Why, to-morrow — 

Cox. I'll take it! 

Box. So will I! 

Mrs. B. Excuse me — but if you both take it, you may just as 
well stop where you are. 

Cox. and Box. True. 

Cox. I spoke first, sir — 

Box. With all my heart, sir. The little back second - floor 
room is yours, sir — now, go — 

Cox. Go? Pooh— pooh! 

Mrs. B. Now don't quarrel, gentlemen. You see, there used 
to be a partition here — 

Cox and Box. Then put it up ! 

Mrs. B. Nay, I'll see if I can't get the other room ready this 
very day. Now do keep your tempers. [Exit l. 

Cox. What a disgusting position ! {walking rapidly round 
stage). 

Box {sitting down on chair at one side of table, and follow- 
ing Cox's movements). Will you allow me to observe, if you 



BOX AND COX. 21 

have not had any exercise to-day, you'd better go out and 
take it. 

Cox. I shall not do anything of the sort, sir {seating himself 
at the table opposite Box). 

Box. Very well, sir. 

Cox. Very well, sir! However, don't let me prevent ^cw from 
going out. 

Box. Don't flatter yourself, sir. (Cox is about to break a piece 
of the roll off. ) Holloa ! that's my roll, sir. {Snatches it away, 
puts a pipe in his mouth, lights it with a piece of tinder, and puffs 
smoke across to Cox.) 

Cox. Holloa! What are you about, sir? 

Box. What am I about? I'm about to smoke. 

Cox. Wheugh! {Goes and opens window at Box's back.) 

Box. Holloa! {Turns round.) Put down that window, sir! 

Cox. Then put your pipe out, sir ! 

Box. There! {Puts pipe on table.) 

Cox, There! {Slams doicn windoio and reseats himself.) 

Box. I shall retire to ray pillow. {Goes up, takes off his jacket, 
then goes towards bed, and sits down upon it, l. c) 

Cox {jumps up, goes to bed, and sits down on r. of Box). I beg 
your pardon, sir— I cannot allow any one to rumple my bed, 
{Both rising.) 

Box. Your bed? Hark ye, sir — can you fight? 

Cox. No, sir. 

Box. No? Then come on {sparring at Cox), 

Cox, Sit down, sir, or I'll instantly vociferate " Police!" 

Box {seats hi^nself. Cox does tJie same). I say, sir — 

Cox. Well, sir? 

Box, Although we are doomed to occupy the same room for 
a few hours longer, I don't see any necessity for our cutting each 
other's throats, sir. 

Cox. Not at all. It's an operation that I should decidedly 
object to. 



23 BOX AND COX. 

Box. And, after all, I've no violent animosity to you, sir. 

Cox. Nor have I any rooted antipathy to you, sir. 

Box. Besides, it was all Mrs. Bouncer's fault, sir. 

Cox. Entirely, sir {gradually approacliing chairs). 

Box. Very well, sir! 

Cox. Very well, sir! {Pause.) 

Box, Take a bit of roll, sir? 

Cox. Thank ye, sir {breaking a hit off. Pause). 

Box. Do you sing, sir? 

Cox. I sometimes join in a chorus. 

Box. Then give us a chorus. {Pause.) Have you seen the 
Bosjemans, sir? 

Cox. No, sir— my wife wouldn't let me. 

Box. Your wife ! 

Cox. That is — my intended wife. 

Box. Well, that's the same thing! I congratulate you {shak- 
ing hands). 

Cox {with a deep sigh). Thank ye. (Seeing Box about to get 
up.) You needn't disturb yourself, sir. She won't come here. 

Box. Oh! I understand. You've got a snug little establish- 
ment of your own he7'e — on the sly — cunning dog (nudging 
Cox). 

Cox {drawing himself up). No such thing, sir; I repeat, sir, 
no such thing, sir; but my wife — I mean, my intended wife — 
happens to be the proprietor of a considerable number of bath- 
ing-machines — 

Box (suddenly). Ha! Where? {grasping Qo^s.' 9, arm). 

Cox. At a favorite watering-place. How curious you are! 

Box. Not at all. Well? 

Cox. Consequently, in the bathing season — which luckily is 
rather a long one — we see but little of each other; but as that is 
now over, I am daily indulging in the expectation of being 
blessed with the sight of my beloved {very seriously). Are you 
married ? 



BOX AND COX. 23 

Box. Me? Why — not exactly! 

Cox. Ah — a happy bachelor ! 

Box. Why — not— precisely! 

Cox. Oh! a — widower? 

Box. No — not absolutely? 

Cox. You'll excuse rae, sir — but at present I don't exactly 
understand how you can help being one of the three. 

Box. Not help it? 

Cox. No, sir— not you, nor any other man alive! 

Box. Ah, that may be — but I'm not alive ! 

Cox {pushing hack his chair). You'll excuse me, sir, but I 
don't like joking upon such subjects. 

Box. I'm perfectly serious, sir. I've been defunct for the last 
three years. 

Cox (shouting). Will you be quiet, sir? 

Box. If you won't believe me, I'll refer you to a very large, 
numerous, and respectable circle of disconsolate friends. 

Cox. My dear sir— my very dear sir— if there does exist any 
ingenious contrivance whereby a man on the eve of committing 
matrimony can leave this world, and yet stop in it, I shouldn't 
be sorry to know it. 

Box. Oh! then I presume I'm not to set you down as being 
frantically attached to your intended? 

Cox. Why, not exactly ; and yet, at present, I'm only aware of 
one obstacle to doating upon her, and that is, that I can't abide her ! 

Box. Then there's nothing more easy. Do as I did. 

Co^ {eagerly). I will! What was it? 

Box. Drown yourself! 

Cox {shouting again). Will you be quiet, sir? 

Box. Listen to me. Three years ago it was my misfortune 
to captivate the affections of a still blooming, though somewhat 
middle-aged widow, at Ramsgate. 

Cox (aside). Singular enough! Just my case three months 
ago at Margate. 



34 BOX AND COX. 

Box. Well, sir, to escape her importunities, 1 came to 
the determination of enlisting into the Blues, or Life- 
guards. 

Cox (aside). So did I. How very odd ! 

Box. But they wouldn't have me — they actually had the ef- 
frontery to say that I was too short — 

Cox (aside). And I wasn't tall enough ! 

Box. So I was obliged to content myself with a marching 
regiment — I enlisted! 

Cox (aside). So did I. Singular coincidence! 

Box. I'd no sooner done so than I was sorry for it. 

Cox (aside). So was I. 

Box. My infatuated widow offered to purchase my discharge, 
on condition that I'd lead her to the altar. 

Cox (aside). Just my case ! 

Box. I hesitated — at last I consented. 

Cox (aside). I consented at once ! 

Box. Well, sir, the day fixed for the happy ceremony at length 
drew near— in fact, too near to be pleasant — so I suddenly dis- 
covered that I wasn't worthy to possess her, and I told her so; 
when, instead of being flattered by the compliment, she flew 
upon me like a tiger of the female gender. I rejoined— when 
suddenly something whizzed past me, within an inch of my ear, 
and shivered into a thousand fragments against the mantle-piece 
— it was the slop-basin. I retaliated with a teacup— we parted, 
and the next morning I was served with a notice of action for 
breach of promise. 

Cox. Well, sir? 

Box. Well, sir, ruin stared me in the face — the ^ action pro- 
ceeded against me with gigantic strides. I took a desperate res- 
olution ; I left my home early one morning, with one suit of 
clothes on my back, and another tied up in a bundle under my 
arm. I arrived on the cliffs, opened my bundle, deposited the 
suit of clothefi on the very verge of the precipice, took one look 



BOX AND COX. 25 

down into the jrawning gulf beneath me, and walked off in the 
opposite direction. 

Cox. Dear me ! I think I begin to have some slight perception 
of your meaning. Ingenious creature! You disappeared— the 
suit of clothes was found — 

Box. Exactly ; and in one of the pockets of the coat, or the 
waistcoat, or the pantaloons — I forget which — there was also 
found a piece of paper, with these affecting farewell words: 
"This is thy work, oh, Penelope Ann!" 

Cox. Penelope Ann! {Starts up, takes Box by the arm, aiid 
leads him sloicly to front of stage.) Penelope Ann? 

Box. Penelope Ann! 

Cox. Originally widow of William Wiggins? 

Box. Widow of William Wiggins. 

Cox. Proprietor of bathing-machines? 

Box. Proprietor of bathing-machines! 

Cox. At Margate? 

Box. And Ramsgate! 

Cox. It must be she ! And you, sir — you are Box — the la- 
mented, long lost Box! 

Box. I am. 

Cox. And I was about to marry the interesting creature you 
so cruelly deceived. 

Box. Ha! then you are Cox? 

Cox. I am. 

Box. I heard of it. I congratulate you — I give you joy! 
And now I think I'll go and take a stroll {going). 

Cox. No you don't! {stopping hini). I'll not lose sight of you 
till I've restored you to the arms of your intended. 

Box. Jfi/ intended? You mean y<?wr intended. 

Cox. No, sir — yours! 

Box. How can she be my intended, now that I'm drowned? 

Cox. You're no such thing, sir! and I prefer presenting you 
to Penelope Ann. 



26 BOX AND COX. 

Box. I've no wish to be introduced to your intended. 

Cox. My intended? How can that be, sir? You proposed to 
her first ! 

Box. What of that, sir? I came to an untimely end, and you 
popped the question afterwards. 

Cox, Very well, sir ! 

Box. Very well, sir ! 

Cox. You are much more worthy of her than I am, sir. Per- 
mit me, then, to follow the generous impulse of my nature — I 
give her up to you. 

Box. Benevolent being! I wouldn't rob you for the world! 
( Ooing. ) Good-morning, sir ! 

Cox {seizing him). Stop ! 

Box. Unhand me, hatter ! or I shall cast off the lamb and as- 
sume the lion ! 

Cox. Pooh! {snapping his fingers close toco's.' ^ face). 

Box. An insult! to my very face! — under my very nose! {rub- 
bing it). You know the consequences, sir — instant satisfaction, 
sir! 

Cox. With all my heart, sir! {They go to the fireplace, r., and 
begin ringing bells violently, and pull down bell-pulls.) 

Both. Mrs. Bouncer! Mrs. Bouncer! 

[Mrs. Bouncer runs in, l. c. 

Mrs. B. What is it, gentlemen? 

Box. Pistols for two ! 

Mrs. B. Yes, sir {going). 

Cox. Stop! You don't mean to say, thoughtless and impru- 
dent woman, that you keep loaded fire-arms in the house? 

Mrs. B. Oh no — they're not loaded. 

Cox. Then produce the murderous weapons instantly ! 

{Exit Mrs. Bouncer, l. c. 

Box. I say, sir! 

Cox. Well, sir? 

Box. What's your opinion of duelling, sir? 



BOX AND COX. 27 

Cox. I think it's a barbarous practice, sir. 

Box. So do I, sir. To be sure, I don't so much object to it 
when the pistols are not loaded. 

Cox. No ; I dare say that does make some difference. 

Box. And yet, sir, on the other hand, doesn't it strike you 
as rather a waste of time for two people to keep firing pistols 
at each other with nothing in 'em? 

Cox. No, sir — not more than any other harmless recreation. 

Box. Hark ye! Why do you object to marry Penelope Ann? 

Cox. Because, as I've observed already, I can't abide her. 
You'll be very happy with her. 

Box. Happy? Me! With the consciousness that I have de- 
prived you of such a treasure? No, no. Cox! 

Cox. Don't think of me. Box— I shall be sufficiently rewarded 
by the knowledge of my Box's happiness. 

Box. Don't be absurd, sir! 

Cox. Then don't you be ridiculous, sir! 

Box. I won't have her! 

Cox. I won't have her! 

Box. I have it ! Suppose we draw lots for the lady — eh, Mr. 
Cox? 

Cox. That's fair enough, Mr. Box. 

Box. Or, what say you to dice? 

Cox. With all my heart ! Dice, by all means (eagerly). 

Box {a»ide). That's lucky ! Mrs. Bouncer's nephew left a pair 
here yesterday. He sometimes persuades me to have a throw 
for a trifle, and as he always throws sixes, I suspect they are 
good ones. (Goes to the cupboard at r. , and brings out tlie dice-box.) 

Cox {aside). I've no objection at all to dice. I lost one pound 
seventeen and sixpence at last Barnet Races, to a very gentle- 
manly-looking man who had a most peculiar knack of throwing 
sixes; I suspected they were loaded, so I gave him another half- 
crown, and he gave me the dice. {Takes dice out of his pocket; 
uses lucifer-box as substitute for dice-box, which is on table.) 



38 BOX AND COX. 

Box, Now, then, sir! 

Cox. I'm ready, sir! {They seat themselves at opposite sides of 
the table.) Will you lead off, sir? 

Box. As you please, sir. The lowest throw, of course, wins 
Penelope Ann? 

Cox. Of course, sir. 

Box. Very well, sir! 

Cox. Very well, sir ! 

Box (rattling dice and throwing). Sixes ! 

Cox. That's not a bad throw of yours, sir. {Battling dice — 
throws.) Sixes! 

Box. That's a pretty good one of yours, sir. {Throws.) Sixes! 

Cox {throws). Sixes ! 

Box. Sixes! 

Cox. Sixes! 

Box. Sixes! 

Cox. Sixes! 

Box. Those are not bad dice of yours, sir. 

Cox. Yours seem pretty good ones, sir. 

Box. Suppose we change? 

Cox. Very well, sir. {They change dice.) 

Box {throwing). Sixes! 

Cox. Sixes! 

Box. Sixes! 

Cox. Sixes! 

Box {flings doicn the dice). Pooh! It's perfectly absurd, your 
going on throwing sixes in this sort of way, sir. 

Cox. I shall go on till my luck changes, sir! 

Box. Let's try something else. X have it! Suppose we toss 
for Penelope Ann? 

Cox. The very thing I was going to propose! {They each turn 
aside and take out a handful of money.) 

Box {aside, examining money). Where's my tossing shilling? 
B[ere it is {selecting coin). 



BOX AND COX. 29 

Cox {adde, examining money). Where's my lucky sixpence? 
I've got it ! 

Box. Now, then, sir— heads win? 

Cox. Or tails lose — whichever you prefer. 

Box. It's the same to me, sir. 

Cox. Very well, sir. Heads, I win— tails, you lose. 

Box. Yes,— {suddenly) — no. Heads win, sir. 

Cox. Very well — go on! {TJiey are standing opposite to each 
other.) 

Box (tossing). Heads ! 

Cox (tossing). Heads! 

Box (tossing). Heads! 

Cox (tossing). Heads ! 

Box. Ain't you rather tired of turning up heads, sir? 

Cox. Couldn't you vary the monotony of our proceedings by 
an occasional tail, sir? 

Box (tossing). Heads! 

Cox (tossing). Heads! 

Box. Heads? Stop, sir! Will you permit me (taking Cox's 
sixpence). Holloa! your sixpence has got no tail, sir! 

Cox (^seizing Box's shilling). And your shilling has got two 
heads, sir! 

Box. Cheat! 

Cox. Swindler! (They are about to rush upon each other, then 
retreat to some distance and commence sparring, and striking 
fiercely at each other.) 

Enter Mrs. Bouncer, l. h. c. 

Box and Cox. Is the little back second-floor room ready ? 

Mrs. B. Not quite, gentlemen. I can't find the pistols, but I 
have brought you a letter— it came by the general post yester- 
day. I'm sure I don't know how I forgot it, for I put it care- 
fully in my pocket. 

Cox, And you've kept it carefully in your pocket ever since? 



30 BOX AND COX. 

Mrs, B. Yes, sir. I hope you'll forgive me, sir {going). By- 
the-bye, I paid twopence for it. 

Cox. Did you? Then I d<? forgive you, lExifKi^^.B. 

{Looking at letter.) "Margate," The post-mark decidedly says 
"Margate." 

Box. Oh, doubtless a tender epistle from Penelope Ann. 

Cox. Then read it, sir {handing letter to Box). 

Box, Me, sir? 

Cox. Of course. You don't suppose I'm going to read a let- 
ter from your intended? 

Box. My intended! Pooh! It's addressed to you— C, O, X! 

Cox. Do you think that's a C? It looks to me like a B. 

Box. Nonsense ! Fracture the seal ! 

Cox {opens letter— starts). Goodness gracious! 

Box {snatching letter — starts). Gracious goodness! 

Cox {taking letter again). "Margate — May the 4th. Sir, — I 
hasten to convey to you the intelligence of a melancholy acci- 
dent which has bereft you of your intended wife." He means 
y(??^/' intended! 

Box. No, yours ! However, it's perfectly immaterial— but she 
unquestionably was yours. 

Cox. How can that be? You proposed to her first! 

Box. Yes, but then you — Now don't let us begin again. Goon. 

Cox {resuming letter). ' ' Poor Mrs. Wiggins went out for a 
short excursion in a sailing-boat — a sudden and violent squall 
soon after took place, which it is supposed upset her, as she 
was found, two days afterwards, keel upward," 

Box, Poor woman! 

Cox. The boat, sir! {Beading). "As her man of business, I im- 
mediately proceeded to examine her papers, among which I soon 
discovered her will, the following extract from which will, I 
have no doubt, be satisfactory to you : ' I hereby bequeath my 
entire property to my intended husband. ' " Excellent but un- 
happy creature! {affected). 



BOX AND COX. 81 

Box. Generous, ill-fated being ! {affected). 

Cox. And to think that I tossed up for such a woman ! 

Box. When I remember that I staked such a treasure on the 
hazard of a die ! 

Cox. I'm sure, Mr. Box, I can't sufficiently thank you for your 
sympathy. 

Box. And I'm sure, Mr. Cox, you couldn't feel more, if she 
had been your own intended! 

Cox. ijf she'd been my own intended? She ir^as my own in- 
tended ! 

Box. Your intended ? Come, I like that ! Didn't you 
very properly observe just now, sir, that I proposed to her 
first? 

Cox. To which you very sensibly replied that you'd come to 
an untimely end. 

Box. I deny it! 

Cox. I say you have ! 

Box. The fortune's mine ! 

Cox. Mine! 

Box. I'll have it! 

Cox. So will I! 

Box. I'll go to law! 

Cox. So Willi! 

Box. Stop — a thought strikes me. Instead of going to law 
about the property, suppose we divide it. 

Cox. Equally? 

Box. Equally. I'll take two-thirds. 

Cox. That's fair enough — and I'll take three-fourths. 

Box. That won't do. Half and half! 

Cox. Agreed ! There's my hand upon it — 

Box. And mine. {About to shake hands — a Postman's knock 
heard at street door.) 

Cox. Holloa! Postman again ! 

Box. Postman yesterday — postman to-day. 
3 



32 BOX AND COX. 

Enter Mrs. Bouncer. 

Mrs. B, Another letter, Mr. Cox — twopence more ! 

Cox. I forgive you again! {Taking letter.) Another trifle from 
Margate. {Opens the letter — starts.) Goodness gracious! 

Box {snatching letter — starts). Gracious goodness ! 

Cox {snatching letter again— reads). "Happy to inform you— 
false alarm" — 

Box {onerlooking). ' ' Sudden squall — boat upset— Mrs. Wiggins, 
your intended " — 

Cox. ' ' Picked up by a steamboat " — 

Box, "Carried into Boulogne " — 

Cox. " Returned here this morning" — 

Box. " Will start by early train, to-morrow " — 

Cox. "And be with you at ten o'clock, exact." (^Both simulta- 
neously pull out their watches.) 

Box. Cox, I congratulate you — 

Cox. Box, I give you joy! 

Box. I'm sorry that most important business of the Colonial 
OflBce will prevent my witnessing the truly happy meeting be- 
tween you and your intended. Good-morning {going). 

Cox {stopping him). It's obviously for me to retire. Not for 
worlds would I disturb the rapturous meeting between you and 
your intended. Good-morning! 

Box. You'll excuse me, sir— but our last arrangement was 
that she was your intended. 

Cox. No, yours! 

Box. Yours! 

Together. Yours! {Ten o'clock strikes — noise of an omnibus.) 

Box. Ha! what's that? A cab's drawn up at the door! {Mun- 
ning to window. ) No — it's a twopenny omnibus ! 

Box {leaning over Cox's shoulder). A lady's got out — 

Box. There's no mistaking that majestic person — it's Penel- 
ope Ann! 



BOX AND COX. 33 

Cox. Your intended ! 

Box. Yours! 

Cox. Yours! {Both run to door, ij.c.,a7id eagerly listen.) 

Box. Hark — she's coming up-stairs ! 

Cox. Shut the door ! {They slam the door, and both lean up 
against it tcith their backs.) 

Mrs. B. (loithout, and knocking). Mr. Cox ! Mr. Cox ! 

Cox {shouting). I've just stepped out! 

Box. So have I ! 

Mrs. B. Mr. Cox ! {Pushing at the door— Cox and Box redouble 
their efforts to keep their door shut.) Open the door ! It's only 
me — Mrs. Bouncer! 

Cox. Only you? Then where's the lady? 

Mrs. B. Gone! 

Cox. Upon your honor? 

Box. As a gentleman ? 

Mrs. B. Yes, and slie's left a note for Mr. Cox. 

Cox. Give it to me! 

Mrs. B. Then open the door! 

Cox. Put it under! {Letter is put under the door; Cox picks up 
the letter and opens it.) Goodness gracious! 

Box {snatching letter). Gracious goodness! (Cox snatches the 
letter and runs forward, folloiced by Box.) 

Cox {reading). "Dear Mr. Cox, pardon my candor"— 

Box {looking over and reading). "But being convinced that 
our feelings, like our ages, do not reciprocate " — 

Cox. "I hasten to apprise you of my immediate union" — 

Box. "With Mr. Knox." 

Cox. Huzza! 

Box. Three cheers for Knox! Ha, ha, ha! {Tosses the letter 
in the air, and begins dancing. Cox does the same.) 

Mrs. B. {putting her head in at door). The little second floor- 
back room is quite ready ! 

Cox. I don't want it! 



34 BOX AND COX. 

Box. No more do I! 

Cox. What shall part us? 

Box. What shall tear us asunder? 

Cox. Box! 

Box. Cox ! (About to embrace — Box stops, seizes Cox's hand, 
and looks eagerly in Ms face. ) You'll excuse the apparent insan- 
ity of the remark, but the more I gaze on your features, the more 
I'm convinced that you're my long lost brother. 

Cox. The very observation I was going to make to you! 

Box. Ah — tell me— in mercy tell me — have you such a thing 
as a strawberry mark on your left arm ? 

Cox. No! 

Box. Then it is he! {They rush into each other's arms.) 

Cox. Of course we stop where we are ! 

Box. Of course ! 

Cox. For, between you and me, I'm rather partial to this 
house. 

Box. So am I — I begin to feel quite at home in it. 

Cox. Everything so clean and comfortable — 

Box. And I'm sure the mistress of it, from what I have seen 
of her, is very anxious to please. 

Cox. So she is ; and I vote. Box, that we stick by her. 

Box. Agreed ! There's my hand upon it — join but yours — 
agree that the house is big enough to hold us both, then Box — 

Cox. And Cox — 

Both. Are satisfied ! 

THE CURTAIN FALLS. 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

<a:omeTjfetta, m <©ne ^ct. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Colonel Challenger. 
Harry Barton. 
Basil Royston. 



Mrs. Templeton. 

Julia Templeton. ]^ (her 

Josephine Templeton. j nieces.) 

Scene.— Mrs. Templeton's Villa at Roehampton. 

Handsomely furnished apartments ; large French window at c. 
looking on a garden. Doors r. h. and l. h. At r. h. a table, 
on lohich is an open album; at l. c. another table cowred with 
etc.; table, sofa, chairs, etc. 



Enter Mrs. Templeton at cfolloicedbi/ Colonel Challenger. 

Col. Cousin Martha, you are wrong, wrong, wrong! a thou- 
sand times wrong! 

Mrs. T. Cousin Samuel, I'm right, right, right! ten thousand 
times right ! 

Col. (aside). Obstinate old woman! 

Mrs. T. (aside). Pig-headed old man ! 

CoL. What possible reason can you have for setting your face 
against Josephine's getfmg married? It's downright tyranny ! 
Call yourself an aunt, indeed ! 

Mrs. T. My reason is a very simple one. Her elder sister, 
Julia, must find a husband first. 

CoL. First come, first served— eh? Eeally, my dear Martha, 
I must say that, for a sensible woman, you are by many degrees 
the most prejudiced, the most self-willed, the most — 



36 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Mrs. T. Of course I am ! But you know very well that when 
I once do make up my mind to anything — 

Col. You stick to it like a fly to a " catch-'em-alive-oh." 

Mrs. T. I don't choose that Julia should suffer what / did ! / 
had a sister, Dorothy Jane, four years my junior, who married 
before I did— do you think that was pleasant? — who supplied 
me with a sprinkling of nephews and nieces before / had a 
husband — do you think that was pleasant? — who gave garden- 
parties, balls, concerts, to which all the world flocked, and sur- 
rounded her with flattery, adulation, while / was neglected, ex- 
tinguished, regularly snuffed out. Do you think that was pleas- 
ant? Well, it is this humiliation that I am determined to spare 
Julia. 

Col. Well, you didn't lose much by waiting. I'm sure Tom 
Templeton was as good a creature as ever breathed — didn't live 
long, poor fellow, but cut up remarkably well considering. 

Mrb. T. Leaving his two nieces, his brother's children, to my 
charge, with ten thousand pounds each. 

Col. As a wedding portion, which, I must say, you didn't 
seem in a hurry to part with. 

Mrs. T. You know my conditions. You have only to find 
a husband for Julia. 

Col. I? When she refused half the good-looking fellows 
within ten miles round! If she does mean to marry, she takes 
her time about it, that I will say; it never seems to occur to her 
that she's keeping her poor sister out in the cold! 

Mrs. T. You may be mistaken, cousin. I spoke to Julia 
only yesterday, and she expressed herself in terms which con- 
vinced me that, were she to receive a suitable offer — 

Col. She'd accept it? Well, I'm glad she's coming to her 
senses at last; and I shall go away all the more comfortable in 
my mind. 

Mrs. T. Go away? 

Col. Yes. I'm off back again to Cheltenham. Touch of gout 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 37 

— liver queer; besides, my work here is done. Your liusband's 
affairs, which I confess appeared to me at first sight to be in a 
state of hopeless confusion, are now clearly and satisfactorily 
arranged, thanks to my young colleague, Harry Barton, who, I 
must say, worked like a nigger over them. By-the-bye, he's 
another victim to Miss Julia's caprice and fastidiousness — she 
actually snubbed the poor fellow before she'd time even to look 
at him, much less know him. 

Mrs. T. Well, you'll confess he bears his disappointment with 
becoming resignation (satirically). 

CoL. Yes, he's getting used to it, like the eels. He doesn't see 
the use of crying over spilt milk. By-the-bye, there's another 
matter of five thousand pounds coming to the girls out of the 
Hampshire property. But Barton will give you all the par- 
ticulars. 

Mrs. T. I'm sure, cousin, I feel deeply indebted to you. 

CoL. Not half as much as you ought to feel to Harry Barton. 
Hasn't he been here twice a week for the last month, up to his 
elbows in leases, loans, mortgages, and the deuce knows what? 
Oh ! here he comes. 

Enter Harry Barton at c, a roll of papers under Ids arm, a 
laicyefs bhie bag in his hand, which he deposits on chair. 

Bart, (bowing to Mrs, Templeton). Your servant, madam. 
{To Colonel.) Ah! my dear colonel, I hope you're well. But 
perhaps I ought to apologize for entering unannounced. You 
may be engaged ? 

Mrs. T. Not at all. I am aware, Mr. Barton, how deeply I 
am in your debt; but now that the business which served as 
your first introduction here is satisfactorily concluded, pray 
remember my house is open to you as before (Barton boics). 
You will kindly excuse me now — a few orders to give {courte- 
sies and exit l. h. ; at the same moment the door at r. h. 
opens and Josephine peeps in). 



38 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Josephine. Is the coast clear? {icatcMng Mrs. Templeton 
as she goes out). She's gone at last {runs in). 

Bart, {meeting her). Jo, dear Jo {taking her hand, ichicli he 
is aboici to kiss). 

Josephine. Wait a minute! {looking after Mrs. Templeton). 
She's quite disappeared ; noio you may ! {holding out her hand to 
Barton, who kisses it). And now {turniny to Colonel), you 
dear, good, kind old uncle. Uncle is it, or cousin? I never 
know which. 

Col. Don't you? It's simple enough. Your mother's elder 
brother's second — never mind. Call me uncle. 

Josephine. Well? Have you spoken to Aunt Martha? 

Bart. Yes. Have you broken the ice? 

Col. Cracked it, that's all ! 

Josephine. And what was the result? Did she consent or not? 

Bart. Did she say yes or no ? 

Josephine. Why don't you speak? {impatiently). 

Bart. Why don't you say something? {ditto). 

Col. How the deuce can I, when you won't let me get in a 
word edgeways? Well, then, my poor young friends, sorry I've 
no good news for you; the old story over again — Miss Julia 
stops the way. 

Bart. And yet Mrs. Templeton's pressing invitation to me to 
visit at her house — 

CoL. Is easily explained. She doesn't even suspect that your 
affections have been transferred from her elder to her younger 
niece. 

Josephine. Then you should have told her— then there would 
have been an explosion ! 

Col. Yes, which would have blown Master Harry clean out 
of the street door ! No, no ! don't despair ; Julia will find a 
husband — sooner or later ! 

Josephine. Sooner or later? But what am 1 to do in the 
mean time? 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 39 

Bart. Yes! what are we to do in the mean time? 

Josephine. I'm sure she's had plenty of offers ; but one was 
too young— another was too old— one was too rich— another 
wasn't rich enough ; even poor Harry here, though he followed 
her about like her shadow, and I'm sure made himself sufficiently 
ridiculous— even he wasn't good enough for her ladyship! It's 
downright absurd being so particular. I'm sure / wasn't! 

Bart. No, dear Jo ! you took pity on me at once. 

Josephine. No, not quite at once. I didn't jumj) at you. 
But what — what is to be done? 

CoL. Have patience! 

Josephine. Patience? Raven't I been patient for the last five 
weeks? 

Bart. Five weeks and three days ! 

Josephine. Five weeks and three days] (suddeiili/). Oh! such 
an idea! such a capital notion! Listen. Julia must find a hus- 
band, or a husband must be found for Julia — that's a settled 
point. 

COL. 

Bart. 

Josephine. Well, then, as she sets her face against a 
one — 

CoL. Yes; as she sets her face against a young one — 
Josephine. And turns up her nose at a handsome one — 
Col. And turns up her nose at a handsome one — 
Josephine. She might find you more to her taste! {io 
Colonel). 

Col. She might find me more to her — (Seeing Josephine 
laugJiing.) So, Miss Saucy one, you're poking fun at me, are 
you? Then you'll be good enough to find another victim — I 
mean another admirer, for Miss Julia! Egad, I must make 
haste and pack up, or I shall lose my train ! Come along with 
me, little one ! Good-by, Barton ! Keep up your spirits ! Rec- 
ollect you've still got me ! 



i {together). Quite so! 



40 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Josephine. And me, Harry. Not yet, but you will! 

[Exeunt Colonel and Josephine at door r. h. 

Bart. Dear Josephine ! What a contrast to her cold, insensi- 
ble, apathetic sister! I, who loved her so sincerely, so devotedly, 
made such a thorough spooney of myself! and was even weak 
enough to believe I was not quite indifferent to her! I confess 
I felt hurt — considerably hurt — infernally hurt ; but if she flat- 
tered herself I should be inconsolable, she never was more mis- 
taken in her life! She little dreamt how soon I should find a 
cure for my infatuation in the charms of her angelic sister! 
Dear Josephine! And to think there's no hope of my calling 
her mine till we find somebody to call her sister Ids! By-the- 
bye, here are a few papers I must look over {seating himself at 
table and opening pai^ers). 

EoYS. {Iieard loitliout). Very well; take my card to Mrs. Tem- 
pleton. I'll wait. I'm in no hurry. 

Bart. Heyday! who have we here? 

Enter Basil Royston at c. 

Roys, {coming doicn— seeing Barton). I beg pardon, sir! 

Bart, {rising). Sir — I — 

Roys. Be seated, I beg. 

Bart. Not till you set me the example {pointing to chair — 
they seat themselves). 

Roys. Like me, sir, you are doubtless waiting to see Mrs. 
Templeton? 

Bart. No, sir, 

Roys. Oh! One of the family, perhaps? Possibly a friend? 

Bart. Yes, sir, a friend. (J.5iVZe.) He's very inquisitive! 

Roys, {looking at album). What charming water -colors — per- 
fect gems ! 

Bart. They are the work of Mrs. Templeton's elder niece. 
Are you an artist? 



FIKST COME, FIKST SERVED. 41 

Roys. No, merely an amateur. And you? 

Bart. A humble member of the legal profession. 

Roys. A lawyer — eh? (Aside.) By Jove! here's a chance for 
me! I've half a mind to — he looks the very picture of good- 
nature, and six and eightpence won't ruin me! (Aloud.) Might 
I venture, sir, on so very slight an acquaintance, to solicit your 
professional opinion? (Barton boics.) It is rather a delicate 
subject, a very peculiar subject. 

Bart. I'm all attention, sir, merely observing that the sooner 
you begin — 

Roys. The sooner I shall have done. Exactly. Then I'll 
come to the point at once. I would ask you whether, in your 
opinion, a promise of marriage, written under certain circum- 
stances and under certain conditions, must necessarily be bind- 
ing? 

Bart. Such conditions being — 

Roys. First and foremost — that the lady should have her 
head altered ! 

Bart, (astonished). Have her head altered? 

Roys. I mean, have her hair dyed ! 

Bart. Which condition the lady has not complied with? 

Roys. No, sir! It's as red as ever! 

Bart. Then, sir, I've no hesitation in saying that the promise 
falls to the ground. 

Roys. Thank you, sir (seizing Barton's hand and shaking it 
— aside and sighing). Poor Sophia ! 

Bart. May I inquire the name of my neio client? (smiling). 

Roys. Royston. 

Bart. The Roystons of Banbury? 

Roys. Yes, Banbury — where the cakes come from. 

Bart. I was aware that Mrs. Templeton expected you on a 
matter of business — a certain sum of money, I believe? 

Roys. Yes, coming to the family from some Hampshire prop- 
erty. 



42 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Bart. I imagined Mr. Royston was a much older person. 

Roys. I see! You mean Jonathan. 

Bart. Jonathan? 

Rots. Yes, my brother— the head of the firm — he's twenty 
years my senior ! But as he could not spare the time to come, 
he sent me. 

Bart, {aside). It's worth the trial — decidedly worth it! {look- 
ing aside at Royston). Young, gentlemanly, sufficiently good- 
looking, good family ! Here goes! (J.^o?if?.) Excuse my candor, 
but I think I guess your motive in putting the professional ques- 
tion you did just now. Tou ai'e the writer of the proniise of 
marriage, and you are desirous of contracting another alliance 
—eh? 

Roys. / don't care about it, but Jonathan does ! {Aside, and 
sighing again.) Poor Sophia! 

Bart. Perhaps you have some party in view? 

Roys. No. But I'm on the lookout. 

Bart. And, no doubt, anxious to succeed? 

Roys. Not particularly— but Jonathan is. 

Bart. Perhaps that is the object of your visit here ? 

Roys. Eh? Is there a marriageable young lady here? 

Bart. Yes. 

Roys. I should like to see her. 

Bart. Nothing more easy. 

Roys. What age? 

Bart. Twenty. 

Roys. Any fortune? 

Bart. Ten thousand. 

Roys. That'd just suit Jonathan! Pretty? 

Bart. Charming! 

Roys. That'd just suit me! Egad, suppose I try my luck? 
I've half a mind ! 

Bart. Have a wJwle one ! I've a notion you'll succeed ! 

Roys. But I know nobody here ! 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 43 

Bart. I beg your pardon! you know me! 

Roys. Eh? 

Bart. Known me for years {with intentioii). 

Roys, {suddenly seeing Barton's meaning). Of course I have! 

Bart. Ever since we were children ! 

Roys. Babies! 

Bart. We went to the same school together! 

Roys. Of course we did ! 

Bart. At Tunbridge Wells! 

Roys. Yes, at Bagnigge Wells ! 

Bart. And we have been friends ever since ! 

Roys, {enthusiastically). Bosom friends ! And you'll really do 
all you can to serve me? 

Bart. Of course I will I {Aside.) And myself at the same 
time! 

Roys. A thousand thanks, my dear— By-the-bye, what shall 
I call you? 

Bart. Harry. And you? 

Roys. Basil {grasping Barton's hand). Sophia might scratch 
your eyes out, but Jonathan will bless you. 

Bart. Hush ! {seeing Mrs. Templeton, toho enters at l, h.). 

Mrs. T. (to Royston). Sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. 
Royston. 

Roys. I am here, madam, as my brother's representative. 

Mrs. T. I am aware of it. Mr. Barton, allow me to introduce 
to you — 

Bart. No necessity for it, madam. Basil is an old friend of 
mine. 

Roys. Yes, madam ! I little thought of meeting an old school- 
fellow here {shaking Barton's hand warmly). Some years ago 
now — eh, Tom? 

Bart, (aside to him). Harry I 

Roys. Harry! 

Mrs. T. So you were school-fellows — eh? 



44 FIRST CDME, FIRST SERVED. 

Roys. Yes, ma'am, at — Bagnigge Wells. 

Bart, (hastily aside to him). Tunbridge ! 

Roys. Of course ! Tunbridge ! 

Mrs. T. You must have had some diflQculty in recognizing 
each other? 

Roys. / had — very considerable difficulty, I assure you ! 

Bart. We should have met earlier, no doubt, but for my 
friend's lengthened absence in Italy {significantly to Royston). 

Roys. Yes. Ah! charming country — for those who don't 
mind the cold! (On a sign from Barton.) I mean the heat! 

Mrs. T, {aside and looking at Royston). Really a vastly agree- 
able young man ! 

Enter Colonel at r. h. 

Col. So Royston has arrived, has he? {Seeing Basil.) Hey- 
day! why, this is Basil — his younger brother ! 

Roys. At your service, colonel. 

Mrs. T. You are acquainted, then? 

Col. I was intimate with his mother's family — indeed, I may 
say I was the means of getting him a nomination to the Blue 
Coat school. 

Bart, {aside). This is deuced awkward! 

Mrs. T. The Blue Coat school? I thought you said Tun- 
bridge Wells? 

Roys, {recollecting). Yes ; that was before — I mean after — 

Col. {aside and suspiciously). I suspect these young fellows 
are playing some little game of their own; and, what's more, I 
can pretty well guess what it is ! 

Mrs. T. {aside to Colonel). As Mr. Royston is an entire stran- 
ger to me, may I ask you. Cousin Samuel, what is the opinion 
you have formed of him? 

Col. Oh! a very charming young man, indeed ! Most respect- 
able family ! an ample income already, with great expectations 
from a couple of aunts and a godmother! A little wild at pres- 



FIRST COME, FIKST SERVED. 45 

ent, perhaps, but he'll soon settle down when he's married] 
Ah! happy the woman who makes a conquest of such a man! 
{Aside.) There! now Tm in the conspiracy too ! 

Mrs. T. {to Royston). Your friend Mr. Barton does not leave 
here till to-morrow; you, I hope, will also defer your departure 
till then? 

Bart, {quickly to Royston). Of course you will! {To Mrs. T.) 
Of course he will! {To Royston.) You'll be only too delighted! 
{To Mrs. T.) He'll be only too delighted! 

Mrs. T. Ah! here's my niece! {going up to meet Julia, icho en- 
ters at c). 

Roys, {seeing JosEPHmE, icho at the same moment enters at 
R, H. ). Look ! what a charming creature ! 

Bart. No, no! it isn't she! it's the other! Look there! {pointing 
to Julia). There's a figure ! there's a symmetry ! Look at those 
finely-chiselled features ! 

Roys. Yes, yes! but still, in my opinion {looking admiringly 
at Josephine) — 

Bart. Your opinion, indeed! Pshaw! what do you know 
about it? 

Josephine {aside to Colonel, and pointing to Royston). 
What! has Harry found somebody already? 

Mrs. T. Julia, my dear, allow me to present Mr. Royston, an 
old friend of Mr. Barton's (Julia courtesies stiffly to Royston). 

Bart, {to Royston). There's a courtesy! that's what I call a 
courtesy! 

Roys. Yes ! but, as I said before, of the two I prefer {looking 
at Josephine) — 

Bart. You prefer, indeed ! Surely I must know better than 
you! {To Julia.) My friend Royston, a distinguished amateur 
of the fine arts, is in raptures with your sketches. Miss Julia. 
(Julia courtesies stiffly again.) 

Josephine {to Julia). Why don't you thank Mr. Royston, 
sister? 



46 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Roys, {aside to Barton). Oh! she's the sister — eh? 

Bart, {icith pretended indifference). Yes, a little, harmless, in- 
significant school-girl — 

Roys, Still, I repeat, if I had to choose between them — 

Bart. Pshaw ! my dear fellow, if you only knew what non- 
sense you're talking! {Aside.) Zounds! I hope he isn't going to 
fall in love with Josephine ! 

CoL. Sorry to interrupt, but my time is precious, and business 
must be attended to. Mr. Royston, will you step into the din- 
ing-room with your papers? Barton, you'll come too? 

Josephine {hastily aside to Barton). I understand it all, Har- 
ry. A very nice young man, indeed ! and likely to stand a good 
chance. Don't you think so? Where did you pick him up so 
soon? 

Bart. Hush ! I'll explain everything another time. 

[Colonel and Mrs. Templeton exeunt at r. h., 
followed by Barton and Royston. Royston 
stops, turns, and makes a profound hoio to Jose- 
phine. Barton pushes ?iim out. 

Josephine {aside). I wonder what she thinks of him? {Aloud.) 
A very gentlemanly young man, Mr. Royston, don't you think so, 
Julia? 

Julia (indifferently). I scarcely looked at him. 

Josephine {aside). That's not very encouraging! {Aloud.) 
How do you manage to find so many admirers? /can't ! 

Julia {smiling). Hitherto, perhaps, I may have had the lion's 
share of attention, homage, and professed admiration; but your 
turn will come. 

Josephine. It's a long time about it! You are so difficult to 
please. And poor Mr. Royston, I suppose, will be snubbed like 
the rest ! 

Julia {reprovingly). Josephine! surely you don't imagine — 

Josephine. That there is some attraction for him here? Of 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 47 

course I do ! It can't be Aunt Martha— nor I ! Fm only a child! 
{with affected humility). 

Julia. Josephine, you speak as though you were piqued, vex- 
ed — I might almost say envious ! 

JosEPHnsTE. Envious? I? Of what? 

Julia {sighing). Of what, indeed ! Ah, dear one, the privileges 
of an elder sister are not so enviable after all ! What is often her 
lot? — to be constantly exposed to flattery — adulation from the 
lips of strangers— compelling her to assume an extreme reserve 
in order to modify the exaggerated and at times indelicate enco- 
miums of relatives and friends. What is the necessary result? 
Doubt, distrust, suspicion— nay, even prejudice, oftentimes un- 
just, against those who profess a desire to please! On this im- 
pulse / have acted — an impulse dictated by self-respect and a 
due sense of my own dignity! 

Josephine {aside). What a serious tone! (Aloud.) But just 
think how cruelly, how unjustly you 7nay have acted. And I'm 
sure, as for Mr. Royston — 

Julia. Mr. Royston again! Silly child! 

Josephine. Child? Perhaps I could mention a little fact that 
— that — but I won't! {Aside.) Good-by to my secret if I did! 
{Aloud.) Good-by! 

Julia. Are you going to leave me too? 

Josephine, Haven't I got to write out all the invitations for 
our ball on the 23d? 

Julia. Your birthday? — true. 

Josephine. Yes; that is the professed reason — but of course 
it is on youi' account that it is given. 

Julia {reproachfully). Josephine ! 

Josephine. I know a younger sister's duty. Miss Templeton 
{makes a low courtesy and exit l. h.). 

Julia. Josephine! sister! — Did she but know how she mis- 
judges me! How heavily I have been punished for that pride, 
that apparent insensibility, with which she reproaches me! Oh, 
4 



48 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Harry! Harry! could you but tell how bitterly I have repented! 
But surely, surely the cruel, wicked indifference with which I 
treated his affection, his devotion, cannot have entirely destroyed 
them— some little spark of the old flame must still remain! else 
why is he so constantly here? Why does he still seem to seek 
my presence? At any rate, he shall see that I am no heartless 
coquette ; and when this Mr. Royston presents himself, as I'm sure 
he icill {seeing Royston, who enters from r. h.) — I thought so! 

'RoY^. {aside). She's alone! She's decidedly handsome. Yet, 
as I said before, there's something about the other that — that — 
{Aloud, and bowing to Julia.) Miss Templeton! 

Julia {courtesy ing). Sir! the business matter in which you 
are engaged is, I presume, settled? 

Roys. Yes; the signatures alone are required. 

Julia. In that case perhaps I had better — {About to retire.) 

Roys. One moment, I beg ! {Aside.) She's decidedly very 
handsome ! Still — I don't know how it is — but there is cer- 
tainly something about the other that — that — {Aloud.) Before 
leaving this house to-morrow, with my new acquaintance — I 
mean my old friend Barton — 

Julia {quickly). Mr. Barton leaves to-morrow? 

Roys. Yes, alas! I say " alas," because one day only is now 
left for me to admire your physical attractions, your mental 
accomplishments — 

Julia. Oh, sir! Believe me, my sister is far more accom- 
plished than I am. 

Roys. Far be it from me to deny it. Still, from the highly 
eulogistic terms in which every one speaks of you — your sister 
among the first — 

Julia. Ah, sir! Dear Josephine is so amiable, so affectionate, 
so good, so loving, so angelic — 

Roys, (aside). She sticks up for her sister, that I will say! 
(Aloud.) Still, there are certain attractions which we can all 
judge of by our own eyes. 



PIIIST COME, FIRST SERVED. 49 

Julia {quickly). And who can possess them to a greater de- 
gree than Josephine? Such exquisite grace — such absolute per- 
fection of form and feature — 

Roys, (aside). Her sister again! If we go on at this rate, we 
sha'n't get on very fast! {Aloud.) Allow me to be frank with 
you ; my brother Jonathan — but perhaps you've never heard of 
Jonathan? — Jonathan Royston, of Banbury — where the cakes 
come from — well, he often reproaches me with being what he 
calls rather wild and fast and flighty — 

Julia. The only fault I find with Josephine, dear child. She 
is so giddy, so thoughtless, so excitable! What a capital match 
you'd make! Ha, ha, ha! 

Roys, {aside). That's a pretty broad hint! {Aloud.) And he— 
I mean Jonathan — says that the best thing I could do would be 
to get married! 

Julia. The very conclusion I have come to about Josephine. 

Roys, {aside). It really looks as if she wanted to turn me over 
to her sister. {Aloud.) And having received the flattering as- 
surance that my pretensions to your hand might possibly not be 
unsuccessful — 

Julia. From whom, pray? Doubtless from my aunt. 

Roys. Oh no! From ray dear old friend, Barton. 

Julia {indignantly). Mr. Barton? He? No, no! I cannot, 
icill not believe it! 

Roys. I'm sure he will not deny it — and see, fortunately, he's 

here ! 

Enter Barton at door r. h. 

Bart. Miss Templeton, your presence is required in the draw- 
ing-room. 

Julia {very coldly, and seating herself at table). Presently. 

Bart, {aside to Royston). Well, what news? 

Roys, {aside). All right! At least, if it isn't this one, it'll be 
the other! One of the two! 

Part. What do you mean by '' the other?" 



50 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Roys. The "little, harmless, insignificant school-girl," you 
know! 

Bart, {aside). Confound the fellow ! 

Roys. You first put the notion of marriage into my head, 
and I won't leave this house a bachelor; I'll marry somebody! 
I leave you together! You'll plead my cause, won't you? — and 
pitch it strong, won't you? I shall be all anxiety to know the 
result — because if she won't have me, I can fall back on the 
other. Don't you see? {shaking Barton's hand, and runs out 
at c). 

Bart, {aside, and looking at Julia). To have to plead the 
cause of another, when, in spite of me, her presence will recall 
the past, painful, humiliating as it is! 

Julia {with indifference). Your friend has left you, Mr. Bar- 
ton? 

Bart. He has, Miss Templeton ; but he has left an advocate 
to intercede with you on his behalf. 

Julia {satirically). A willing and an earnest one, no doubt, 
who probably has already furnished him with a detailed cata- 
logue of jny tastes, habits, pursuits, disposition — 

Bart, {aside). He's been blabbing! {Aloud.) Surely he can- 
not have betrayed my confidence? 

Julia {with suppressed anger). The charge of "betrayal of 
confidence" should rather be levelled at one who by his intimacy 
with a family, into which he is admitted on terms of friend- 
ship, is enabled to study the characters of its members for 
the purpose of retailing the result of his observations to 
others ! 

Bart. I will not affect to misunderstand your reproof. It is 
true that I spoke of you to ]Mr. Royston in terms which you fully 
merit — that I even told him your heart was free. 

Julia. Perfectly, absolutely free! You undertook to be his 
advocate with such zeal, such earnestness, one might almost im 
agine you had some personal interest. 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 51. 

Bart. And what if I had an interest— a 'powerful interest? 

Julia {quickly). Indeed? 

Bart. Yes. And after the somewhat harsh rejection I met 
with at your hands — which, no doubt, I fully merited — what 
greater proof can I give of the esteem in which I still hold you 
than to confide my secret to you? 

Julia {starting). A secret? {Aside.) What can he mean? 

Bart. That, on the eve of leaving your family, I should feel 
far less regret could I but indulge in the hope of ever becoming 
connected with it by a closer tie. 

Julia {aside, and joyfully). Can it be ? Has he forgotten — 
forgiven? Can he still care for me? {Aloud.) But why this 
silence — this want of confidence in me? 

Bart. Frankly, because we feared you would oppose our 
wishes, our hopes. 

JjjIjIA {eagei'ly). Owr hopes? TFi? feared? 

Bart. Yes! She especially. 

Julia. Shef Of whom are you speaking? Her name? 

Bart. Surely I must have mentioned it? Your sister, 

Julia {starting from her chair). Josephine! 

Bart. Yes; rejected by her elder sister, I sought and found 
solace and consolation in her goodness and sympathy. 

Julia {with increasing anger). So! Your frequent visits, your 
constant presence here, apparently so inconsistent with your 
"wounded feelings" {satirically), are now explained! It was 
for her ! And / was to be kept in ignorance — to fancy, to be- 
lieve, to hope — 

Bart, {surprised). Miss Templeton! 

Julia. I now understand this anxiety to dispose of my hand 
— this crowd of admirers thrown in my way! What mattered 
my feelings — my happiness? I was an obstacle to be removed! 
{with increasing excitement). 

Bart. I implore you — 

Julia {stamping her foot). Silence, sir! 



52 FIRST COME, FIUST SEKVED. 

Enter Mrs. Templeton hurriedly at r. h. 

Mrs. T. "What is the matter here? Julia! what means this 
excitement— this agitation? Perhaps you, sir {to Barton)— 

Bart. I am as much surprised as yourself, madam! I vent- 
ured to confide to Miss Julia my pretensions to the hand of her 
sister — 

Mrs. T. {iDith a scream). What ! You had the cruelty, the 
barbarity io make such an avowal to her elder sister? (advancing 
upon Barton, wlio retreats)— io lacerate her feelings ! to wound 
her pride I 

Julia. Yes, that's it ! — to wound my pride ! 

Bart. But really — 

Mrs. T. Silence, young man ! I remember what my feelings 
were when my younger sister was married before me. I was 
choking, sir ! suifocating, sir ! I turned positively purple ! all 
sorts of colors, sir! And here is a little pert, forward chit, daring 
to follow her Aunt Dorothy Jane's example ! — but here she comes. 
{Enter Colonel from r. h. , and Josephine from l. h.) So, miss 
{advancing angrily on Josephine), a pretty account I've heard 
of you I To mix yourself up at your age in a silly romance — a 
nonsensical love-intrigue — 

Col. {interfering). But, my dear Martha — 

Mrs. T. {turning sharply on Mm). Hold your tongue. Cousin 
Samuel! 

Josephine. But, aunt, if you'll only allow me — 

Mrs. T. But I won't allow you! {To Julia.) Keep up your 
spirits, poor persecuted victim ! 

Josephine. Victim? It seems to me that J'w the victim ! Just 
as I thought I was going to be married and settled! {beginning 
to sob; Colonel tries to pacify her). 

Mrs. T. Married and settled, indeed! A child— a baby like 
you! {To Barton.) After what has occurred, sir, you will see 
that your further presence under this roof — 



First come, first served. 53 

Bart, {hoicing). I fully understand, madam ! 

Mrs. T. (to Josephine). Come, miss, follow me ! (Josephine 
about to sjyeak.) Not a word! It is for me to speak, as you'll 
find I intend to do, and to some purpose. This way! {mak- 
ing Josephine pass before her; she and Julia follow her otd 
atn. H.). 

CoL. Wheugh ! here's a pretty piece of business 1 

Bart. Not satisfied with rejecting me herself, she carries her 
prejudice, her hate so far as to — 

CoL. Hate? nonsense! {Suddenly.) By Jove! I have it! — at 
least I think I have. What if she should feel a "sneaking kind- 
ness " for you, after all? 

Bart. Pshaw! 

CoL. But what about friend Royston? 

Bart. Hang friend Royston! 

CoL. With all my heart; but where the deuce is he? ■ 

Bart. Waiting somewhere or other to hear the result of my 
interview with Miss Templeton. 

CoL. In which you undertook to plead his cause — eh? 

Bart. Yes; and forgot all about it in my anxiety to plead 
my own! 

CoL. What's that? Do you mean to say you confided to her 
the secret between you and Josephine ? 

Bart. Yes; trusting in her generous nature and her sisterly 
affection, I certainly did! 

CoL, And a pretty mess you've made of it ! Well, I must 
find Royston and let him know. As for you, as you've received 
orders to march, the sooner you pack up and pack off the better! 
(Jiurries out at c). 

{Door at r. h. opens, and Josephine peeps in.) 

Josephine. Harry! Are you alone? — quite alone? {hurries 
forward). 
Bart. Yes. What is it? 



54 FIRST COAEE, FIRST SERVED. 

Josephine. Such a discovery ! {in a very mysteiHous tone). 
She's got one ! 

Bart. She? Who? 

Josephine. Julia! 

Bart. Got one? Got what? 

Josephine. A young man! shut up in a box! 

Bart. In a box ? 

Josephine. Listen. After being well scolded by Aunt Mar- 
tha, I followed Julia to her room. There she was, with a little 
open box before her, out of which she took something, looked at 
it, then pressed her lips to it, and gave such a sigh! — you might 
have heard it here! perhaps you did? 

Bart. Well? 

Josephine. Then aunt called her, and she hurried out of the 
room, leaving tpe box on the table ; and then — then — somehow 
or other — here it is! {producing a small casket). It looks as if 
there was a young man inside — I mean a portrait — doesn't it? 

Bart. You've not opened it? {eagerly). 

Josephine. No! That's for Aunt Martha to do! 

Bart. Surely you would not betray your sister's secret— per- 
haps her happiness? 

Josephine. Much she cared about mine, didn't she ? Aunt 
Martha must and shall see it! {going; Barton stops her, the box 
falls on stage and opens). There! there! how clumsy you are! 

Bart. {picM up the box, and then suddenly starting). What do 
I see? 

Josephine. That's what I want to know! It is a portrait, 
isn't it? 

Bart, {confused). Yes ! — no I a mere fancy sketch, nothing 
more ! {taking miniature from box, and hastily concealing it in 
his breast-pocket). Be persuaded by me! replace the box where 
you found it! {giving box to her). 

Josephine. Mayn't I take just one little peep? — not that I've 
an atom of curiosity ! 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 55 

Bart. No, no! 

Josephine. Well, if you insist on it. 

Bart. I du not insist, I beg, implore of you. 

Josephine. Very well! {hurries out at r. h.). 

Bart, {watching her out, then taking miniature out and looking 
at it). My portrait! and what is written here? {Reading.) "From 
memory." What am I to think? Can I dare to hope that her 
indifference was assumed — that she ever loved me — that she 
loves me still? Can such happiness be mine? Dear, dear Julia. 
But zounds! what about Josephine? Poor little girl! I can't 
marry them both ! What — what is to be done ?' {walking up and 
down). Will anybody tell me what's to be done? 

Enter Royston hurriedly at c. 

Roys, {coming down). Oh, here you are ! I couldn't wait any 
longer! {folloicing Barton up and down). 

Bart, {impatiently). Don't worry! don't bother! 

Roys, {astonished). Bother ! when I want to thank you for in- 
troducing me to this charming, amiable family, and to tell you 
I don't despair of becoming one of it! 

Bart. What? 

Roys. In a word, I'm in love ! There's no mistake about it ! 
Over head and ears in love ! 

Bart. What, sir ? you persist in carrying on this absurd, 
ridiculous joke? 

Roys. Joke? 

Bart. Yes, sir; I beg to tell you I'll not allow, I'll not permit 
you to annoy poor dear Julia — I mean Miss Templeton — with 
your unwelcome attentions, sir — your absurd importunities, sir? 

Roys. Miss Templeton? My dear fellow, she's nothing what- 
ever to do with it! It's the other! the little one! 

Bart, {joyfully). Josephine? 

Roys. Yes. 

Bart. My dear fellow ! Come to my arms ! {throwing Ms 



50 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

arms about Royston, who struggles). I congratulate you! I give 
you joy! Such a sweet, charmiug, amiable creature, brimful of 
talent, overflowing with tenderness. Come to my arms again! 
{embracing Royston again). 

Roys. Then you'll speak for me — eh? 

Bart. Sj^eak for yourself— here she comes. 

Enter Josephine hurriedly at r. 

Josephine {stopping on seeing Royston). Mr. Roj'ston. 

Bart, {aside to Royston). Now, then, speak out ! don't be 
afraid! put on a sentimental look, 

Roys, {assuming a very lackadaisical look). This sort of thing! 
{Aloud.) Miss Josephine — I — I — {Aside.) It's very awkward ! 
if I only knew how to begin. 

Bart, {aside to him). Go on 1 

Roys. Pardon my frankness, but it has been impossible for 
me to find myself in your charming society without being cap- 
tivated — enchanted — by your fascinations, your — 

Josephine {surprised). I thought it was my sister who— 

Roys. So it was ! but she wouldn't have me ! that's why 
I— 

Bart, {hastily aside to him). No! that won't do! 

Roys, {shouting). No! that won't do! 

Josephine, {still more astonished). And you don't hesitate to 
address me in this language before — {pointing to Barton). 

Roys. Before my friend — m.y bosom friend — that I went to 
school with at Bagnigge Wells? Why should I? It is he who 
encourages me — who tells me to " go on." Yoa told me to " go 
on," didn't you? 

Josephine {with intention, and looking at Barton). But has it 
never occurred to you that you might have a rival? 

Roys. So much the better! I should make it my immediate 
business to sweep him off the face of the earth! 

Josephine {to Barton, in a sarcastic tone). And you, sir! you 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 57 

can listen with perfect calmness, indifference ! Have you nothing 
to say? 

Roys. Yes! Have ^o?^^ nothing? — 

Bart, {aside to him). Hold your tongue! {Aloud, and with af- 
fected solemnity.) Ah! who can anticipate events? How little do 
we know what a few hours may bring forth! 

Roys. Yes! how little do we know! — 

Bart, {aside to him again). Hold your tongue ! (_Aloud.) In 
a word, what if circumstances compel me to leave England for 
a considerable time? 

Josephine. A considerable time? 

Bart. Yes ; for two years at least — possibly more ! 

Josephine. Two or three years? 

Bart. Could I venture to hope that you would submit to such 
a tax on your goodness — your patience? 

Josephine {mry quickly). I should think not, indeed ! 

'Ba.wt. {aside). She doesn't love me! Huzza! {Aloud.) l^hdX 
course is, then, open to me? One — only one: to sacrifice myself 
to the happiness of my friend ! 

Roys, {grasping his hand). Glorious creature! 

Josephine. But what about your own happiness ? It isn't 
likely you could give me up so quietly without some other rea- 
son — some other motive ! 

Bart. I have another motive, which for your sister's sake you 
will respect! In a word, that portrait — 

Josephine. In Julia's box? Yes. Well? 

Bart. Was mine ! See ! {taking out portrait and showing it). 

Josephine {exclaiming). Yours? It is! 

Roys. Yours? It is! {heicildered). 

Josephine. Then — then you are her young man, after all? 

Roys. Yes. You are her young man — 

Josephine. Of course ; now I understand. Now I see 
it all. 

Roys. So do 1! No, I don't! At least, not quite. 



58 FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 

Enter Colonel hurriedly at c. 

Col. {singing as he comes in). ' ' See, the conquering hero comes." 
Victory ! victory ! Everything's settled ; and now, my dear young 
friends {shaking Barton's and Josephine's hands), you can get 
married as soon as you like. 

Josephine. ^ 

Bart. ^{together). Married? 

Roys. ) 

Col. Yes! I had a devil of a light for it, but I've carried the 
day! Aunt Martha consents, Julia consents, everybody consents! 

Rots. I beg your pardon ! /don't! (Shouting). I forbid the 
banns ! 

Enter Mrs. Templeton, folloiced by Julia, at r. h. 

Julia {aside, as she sees Barton). Still here! 

Josephine. So,AuntMartha, you've given your consent? And 
you, too, Julia? 

Julia {endeavoring to conceal her emotion). Yes, Josephine, will- 
ingly, gladly ! Can I be indifferent to your liappiness ? {smiling 
sadly). 

Josephine {aside). How bravely she bears herself ! {Aloud.) 
And yet, just now, you were so indignant, so angry with me?- 

Julia. A momentary caprice, an unworthy jealousy! — but no 
more of that. Kiss me, dear sister ! {kissing Josephine and oaov- 
ing away). 

Josephine {aside). A tear? But you \von't suffer long, poor 
dear martyr! {Suddenly bursting into loud laughter.) Ha! ha! ha! 
{Aside to Colonel.) Laugh! 

Col. {forcing laugh). Ha! ha! ha! {Aside.) Laugh! 

Rots, {mry loud). Ha! ha! ha! {Aside.) I don't know what 
I'm laughing about. 

Mrs. T. What is the matter? 



FIRST COME, FIRST SERVED. 59 

Josephine {laughing again). Ha ! ha ! ha ! You don't mean 
to say you've all been taken in? Did you think we were in ear- 
nest all the time? Ha! ha! ha! {Aside to Colonel.) Laugh! 

CoL. Ha! ha! ha! 

Roys, (very loud). Ha! ha! ha! 

Mrs. T. {impatiently). Josephine, I insist on your explaining 
this extraordinary behavior instantly! 

Josephine. Nothing so simple. {To Colonel and Barton.) 
There's no necessity for our carrying on this innocent little jest 
any longer, is there? 

Mrs. T. Jest? 

Josephine. Yes; this harmless conspiracy to make everybody 
happy ! Julia dear, it was to test your love for me that I pre- 
tended to be so very anxious to get married, which I wasn't the 
least little bit in the world {irith a sly look at Royston). I mean 
I wasn't then! My fellow-conspirator, Mr. Barton, fearing that 
your rejection of him might proceed from a preference for an- 
other, joined in the plot, but very unwillingly, tor it is you, 
Julia, you alone, that he has ever loved; you alone that he 
loves still ! 

Mrs. T. What is it I hear? 

Bart. The truth, madam ! (r<9 Julia.) May I hope, or must I 
endure a second refusal ! 

Julia {tenderly). I suffered too much from the first, Harry 
{giving her hand to Barton). 

Roys, {aside). That's one couple ; but there's room for another. 
{To Mrs. Templeton.) Madam, I have the honor to solicit the 
hand of your younger niece, Miss Josephine! 

Mrs. T. With all my heart, Mr. Royston ; that is, unless Jo- 
sephine objects. 

' Josephine {quickly). But she doesn't ! {giving her hand to 
Royston). 

Bart. You see, Jonathan will be satisfied, after all. 



60 FIRST COME, FIEST SERVED. 

Rots. Yes. But poor Sopliia {sigliing). 

Bart. Hush! {Aside to Julia, and slipping the portrait into 
her hand.) You'll put this portrait back in its place. 

Josephine. She won't care to look at it, now that she's got the 
original. 

THE CURTAIN FALLS. 



PEPPBRPOT'S LITTLE PETS! 

fin ©ne ^ct. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Jack Pepperpot, late H. M 

147th Foot. 
DocTOH Jacobus Jogtrot. 
Mr, Christopher Chirper. 



Stephen Blunt. 
Mrs. Tarletan. 
Jessie (her niece). 
Martha (a servant). 

Scene. — Mrs. Tarletan' s Villa at Harapstead. 



Elegantly furnislied room at Mrs. Tarletan's mlla. French 
windows at back sliowing garden beyond; doors r. h. 3 e. and l. ; 
fireplace «^ l. h. 3 e. ; table, chairs, sofa, etc. Martha discov- 
ered arranging furniture, etc. (Jjell heard without). 

Martha. There's the gate bell beginning. Butcher for or- 
ders, I suppose. (Bell heard again.) I thought so; he's the most 
impatient young man I ever came across! Asked me if I'd 
marry him only yesterday morning when he called for orders, 
and was quite saucy because I hadn't made up my mind when 
he brought the meat! I must go and ask missus. (Exit door r. 
Jack Pepperpot is seen to cross at back beyond the French win- 
dows; looks cautiously in at c). 

Jack. No one to be seen ; so much the better. (Calling off.) 
Now then, Blunt, come along! take care how you turn the cor- 
ner; that'll do. (Enters at c.,walking backward, closely followed by 
Stephen Blunt, in an undress military jacket and cap, carrying 
a box covered i€ith Chinese characters.) Left wheel! halt. (Take? 



62 pepperpot's little petsi 

box carefully from Blunt and jjlaces it on small table— ojoens lid.) 
Nothing broken, I hope. No; I don't even see a chip! 

Blunt. That's a wonder, too, yonv honor! cups and saucers 
is ratlier a delicate sort of cargo to bring all the way from 
China. 

Jack {looking at watch). Nine o'clock ! I wonder if my dear, 
excellent old aunt is still indulging in a horizontal position? 
We reached town so late last night, I was afraid to disturb the 
dear old soul. {Looking round Mm.) Blunt, it strikes me we shall 
find our quarters here very comfortable — eh? {falling into chair 
and stretching out Ms legs). 

Blunt. I think so too, your honor (imitating Jack, then jump- 
ing tip again and saluting). Beg pardon, your honor! but when 
you say our quarters — 

Jack. I mean our quarters! You wouldn't think of leaving 
me, you brute, would you? Haven't we spent the last ten years 
of our lives together — more or less respectably? — and if I have 
got back to Old England again, sound in wind and limb, who 
have 1 to thank? who but you, you fine faithful old dog you 
{laying his hand on Blunt's shoulder). 

Blunt {deprecatingly). Oh ! oh ! 

Jack. If you forget a certain sabre cut I received at the Alma, 
/don't. 

Blunt. Oh! oh! just a little bit of a scratch. 

Jack. Exactly ; a little ,bit of a scratch that began at the top 
of my head and finished at the tip of my nose ! I was lying on 
my back faint and sick, when a noble, lion-hearted fellow cut 
his way through the Russian cavalry at the risk of his life, the 
idiot, threw me across his horse, and saved rhe! That noble, 
lion-hearted idiot was Stephen Blunt — bless him! But enough 
of the past! By-the-bye, Blunt, as long as you are stationed here 
you must make it a point of finding everybody and everything 
about you charming, delightful — in short, first chop! 

Blunt {touching Ms cap). All right, your honor! 



pepperpot's little pets! 63 

Mrs. Tarletan {heard loithout). If I am wanted, Martha, 
you'll find me in the garden. 
Jack. Here comes my aunt ; beat a retreat— quick, anywhere. 

[Blunt hurries out at l. h. 

Enter Mrs. Tarletan at r. 

Mrs. T. {seeing Jack). A stranger? 

Jack {smiling). Not quite. {Going to her.) Don't you know 
me, aunt? 

Mrs. T. Eh? {Suddenly.) Jack dear, dear boy! (Jack clasps 
her in his arms). Kiss me again, Jack. 

Jack. Again and again till you tell me to leave off {kissing 
her again). 

Mrs. T. Let me look at you {holding his head between her 
hands). It is ten long years since I have seen you, my darling 
boy: and has it come back from China, a dear? 

Jack. It has — all the way 1 

Mrs. T. {piilUng his cheek affectionately). And is it glad to get 
home? 

Jack. Is it? ain't it? Ah! after knocking about the world 
for ten years, you don't know how happy a fellow feels in get- 
ting back to his aunt and having his cheeks pulled about. By- 
the-bye, aunt, what d'ye think? — what with my prize-money, the 
sale of my commission, and one thing and the other, I find I've 
managed to scrape together a matter of £10,000. 

Mrs. T. Ten thousand? that's a large sum of money, my dear. 

Jack. An awful lot, isn't it? the puzzle is, what I'm to do 
with it. 

Mrs. T. My advice is, invest in land; they say " Stick to the 
land, and the land will stick to you." 

Jack. I know mud will — at least it did in the Crimea, 

Mrs. T. My dear Jack, do be serious ! Now that you are 
worth £500 a year — 

Jack. Five hundred a year I I shall never spend the half of it. 
6 



64 pepperpot's little pets! 

Mrs. T. Then get a wife to help you. 

Jack. A wife! me? what for? — why, my dear aunt, here are 
no end of clever people complaining of the over-population of 
the country, and you want me to — {Shaking his head.) No, no! 

Mrs. T. Well, well, we'll say no more about it ; though it's a 
pity — a great pity ! 

Jack. A pity! what do you mean? 

Mrs. T. Nothing! a fancy, a dream of mine — that's all. 

(Jessie is heard singing a snatch of a song icithout — runs in 
from R. H.) 

Jessie {running to Mrs. Tarletan and kissing her). Good- 
morning, aunty dear. {Siiddenlg,seeitig JA.CK.) A stranger! Real- 
ly, sir — I — I — {Courtesy ing.) 

Jack {bowing to Jessie). So do I, I'm sure, miss! very much 
indeed. 

Mrs. T. (smiling). "Sir" and "miss?" Why, Jack, have you 
forgotten Jessie? 

Jack. Eh? what? little Jessie! 

Jessie. Cousin Jack! 

Jack (taking both Jessie's hands). Dear, dear, when I remem- 
ber what a tiny little mite you were ten years ago! about so 
high! (measuring about afoot). Why, I used to teach you A B 
C, didn't I? And now I suppose you're quite an accomplished 
young lady? 

Jessie. Tolerably so, I hope, cousin. 

Jack. Then you deserve a prize; and here it is {opening box 
on table, takes out a fan and presents it to Jessie). The reward 
of merit. 

Jessie. Oh, what a beautiful Chinese fan ! Oh, thank you, 
cousin! 

Jack. And perhaps our good aunt will give us our tea to- 
night out of her new porcelain service {slwwing contents of 
box). 



pepperpot's little pets! 65 

Mrs. T. a present for me, too! So yoa found time to think 
of me, dear boy? 

Jack. Think of you! Do you remember this? (taking small 
case from his breast-pocket and opening it). 

Mrs. T. My photograph? 

Jack. Which you gave me the night before I left England. 
You've never left me! You've shared all my hardships, all my 
dangers, all my triumphs! Didn't we enter Pekin together, 
sword in hand? 

Mrs. T. {smiling), /enter Pekin! 

Jack. Yes ; rolled up in three of my flannel waistcoats to pro- 
tect you. 

Jessie. Oh, Cousin Jack, I do so long to hear all your advent- 
ures. 

Jack. Then you shall have them; not all at once; mustn't be 
greedy, little girl. Now for it. {They seat themselves.) Ahem! 
{in an impressive tone). In order to make a first-rate brick — 

Mrs. T. and Jessie. A brick? 

Jack. Don't interrupt me! I repeat, in order to make a first- 
rate brick they put it on the kiln and bake it. Well, in order 
to make a first-rate soldier they send him to India and bake Mm 
— that was my case. 

Mrs. T. Well, from India you went to the Crimea? 

Jack. Yes; there I took to rum, diluted with snowballs and 
gunpowder. 

Jessie. Poor Cousin! how you must have suffered! 

Jack. Tolerably; but we ate well— when we'd got anything to 
eat — and slept well when we hadn't to keep awake. 

Jessie. And you were never wounded? 

Jack. Nothing to speak of. I got rather a warm one at the 
Alma, but luckily it was on the head. 

Jessie. Cousin Jack, I really feel quite proud of you! that 
Ida 

Jack. Then allow me to thauk you m the ^ame of the British 



66 pepperpot's little pets! 

Army; allow the British Army to salute you! {Kisses her. Zy.^- 
siE joins Mrs. Tarletan, icho has gone a feio steps up the stage.) 

Jack {looking after Jessie, and aside). A remarkably nice little 
body. If ever I should marry, I really — 

Jessie {to Mrs. Tarletan, as they coine forward). No, indeed, 
aunt, there's no necessity for anything of the kind. 

3Irs. T. I beg your pardon, my dear. Jack is one of the family. 

Jack. Of course I am! What's the matter? 

Mrs, T. Well, the fact is, we are not unlikely soon to find a 
husband for Jessie ! 

Jack. A husband! Who is he? what is he? 

Mrs, T, I only know that he is 2i protege of Doctor Jogtrot, 

Jack. And who's Jogtrot? 

Mrs. T. Jessie's guardian ; a retired physician — a very eminent 
man in the scientific world. 

Jack, Oh! ah! {Aside.) Confound Jogtrot! 

Martha appears at o,., followed by Doctor Jogtrot, 
Martha {announcing). Doctor Jogtrot, {Disappears.) 
Enter Doctor Jogtrot at c, ; black costume — ichite cravat, etc. 

Jogtrot (to Mrs, Tarletan), Pardon me, madam, if I am late, 

Mrs. T. Don't apologize, doctor. {Introducing.) My nephew, 
Captain Pepperpot— Doctor Jogtrot (Jogtrot 5(9mjs ceremoniously 
to Jack, icho gives him a familiar nod in returii). 

Jogtrot. I merely precede my esteemed young friend Mr, 
Chirper by a few minutes. Need I say I should not presume 
to present him as a competitor for the hand of this charming 
young lady {hoicing to Jessie), had I not discovered in his person 
qualities of the most solid description. 

Jack, Solid— eh? I see! inclined to be stout — eh? 

Jogtrot {after a stare at Jack, and turning to Mrs. T, again). 
In fact, I am proud to say that Mr. Chirper is, in the strictest 
sense of the word, a serious young man ! 



pepperpot's little pets! 67 

Jack {aside). Wheugh ! I sha'n't be able to stand much more 
of Jogtrot ! I feel I sha'n't. 

Mrs. T. No doubt I shall grieve to part with Jessie; but as 
my nephew has left the army, I shall not be entirely alone. 

Jogtrot {to Jack). You are a military man, sir? 

Jack {wlio has heen sJiowing a gradual irritation). I was — till I 
left the army. 

Jogtrot. Left the army? Allow me to congratulate you on 
your having done so, sir! 

Jack (trying to keep cool). May I ask whyl 

Jogtrot (m a supercilious tone). Because, between ourselves, 
sir, I consider the military profession — 

Jack {bristling up). Well, sir, what about the military profes- 
sion? Anything to say against the military profession? {advanc- 
ing on Jogtrot, who retreats). 

Mrs. T. {aside to Jack). Don't be so pugnacious, Jack ! Rec- 
ollect, you're not at the siege of Sebastopol now! 

Jogtrot {overhearing them, eagerly). The siege of Sebastopol? 

Mrs. T. Yes, doctor, my nephew was there during the whole 
campaign ! 

Jogtrot {to Jack). Now, sir, it may be in your power to fur- 
nish me with the most interesting statistical information. Can 
you form any tolerable accurate estimate of the number of pro- 
jectiles of various kinds and dimensions discharged from the 
Russian batteries from the beginning of the siege to the end? 

Jack. Frankly, my dear sir, I'm ashamed to say I never 
thought of counting them. {Aside to Mrs. Tarletan.) I wish to 
speak with all possible respect of this retired chemist and drug- 
gist of yours, but he's simply an inflated idiot! 

Jogtrot. But to return to Mr. Chirper. 

Jack. Yes, give us a little more about Dicky! 

Jogtrot {astonished). Dicky? 

Jack. Yes, same thing! Chirpers are all Dickies — Dickies, 
Chirpers, don't you see? Go on! 



68 pepperpot's little pets! 

Martha, entering at l. 

Martha. A gentleman, ma'am, sent in his card {giving card to 
Mrs.Tarletan). 

Mrs. T. (reading). "Mr. Christopher Chirper." Show the gen- 
tleman in. (Martha goes to c, , shows in Chirper, and then exits. ) 

Enter Chirper, in a similar costume to Jogtrot. 

Jogtrot (meeting Chirper, and handing him forward and pre- 
senting him). Allow me, Mrs. Tarletan — Mr. Christopher Chirper. 
Miss Jessie— Mr. Christopher Chirper. (To Jack.) Sir, Mr. Chris- 
topher Chirper. (Chirper bows very solemnly to each.) 

Jack (aside). A cheerful-looking youth, very! one part waiter, 
three parts undertaker! 

Mrs. T. (to Chirper). The flattering terms in which Dr. Jog- 
trot has spoken of you more than suffice to insure you a hearty 
welcome! 

Chirp, (bowing). I trust, madam, I may merit the favorable 
opinion of my distinguished friend! Permit me to say, I am not 
one of those giddy, thoughtless butterflies who consume their 
mental and moral faculties in mundane futilities. 

Jack (after a long stare at Chirper — then aside). He's not a 
man, he's a tract. (Aside to Jessie, as Tie goes toicards table), Live- 
ly boy, isn't he, Jessie? (Sits and turns over leaves of an album.) 

Chirp. My mode of life is simplicity itself. I rise at seven — 

Jack. Oh, confound it ! — hang it !— dash it ! (turning over leaves 
rapidly). 

Chirp. Breakfast at eight — a slice of bread, a cup of milk ; that 
constitutes my heartiest meal. I then walk for an hour in the 
square; dine at six. 

Jack (who has come down again). Another cup of milk? You 
ought to keep a cow, Chirper, in the square. 

Chirp. I then plunge into my favorite studies, till I retire to 
my pillow. Such is my life, madam. 



pepperpot's little pets! 69 

JACK. And a very jolly one, too, I should say, Chirper. 

Chirp. Ladies, I must now request permission to retire. I am 
due at the Philotechnic Institution. 

Mrs. T. {to Chirper). You'll return to luncheon, I hope? 

Jack. Of course he will. (To Chirper.) Of course you will 
{thrusting Chirper' s hat and umbrella into his hands). I'll see 
there's an extra ha'porth of milk taken in for you {putting Chirp- 
er's hat on his head). 

[Chirper and Jogtrot bow to Jessie and exeunt at 
c, Mrs. Tarletan going up stage with them. 

Mrs. T. (coming down). A. very, very agreeable young man in- 
deed. 

Jessie (satirically). Yes ; so remarkably sprightly. 

Jack. With about as much humor in him as a damp umbrella. 

Mrs. T. (a little nettled). I repeat, Mr. Chirper is a very agree- 
able person. I would put it to anybody — to the very first comer. 

Jack. Would you? That's a bargain (seeing Blunt, who ap- 
pears at c). There's my man, Stephen Blunt — he'll do; you said 
the first comer. Here, Blunt (Blunt advances), tell me what's 
your opinion of the gentleman who has just gone? 

Blunt (aside to Jack, Tcnoicingly). All right, captain, I haven't 
forgot. (Aloud.) Well, sir, I think he's charming, delightful, first- 
chop. 

Jack (quickly). No, no ! I mean the other — the young one. 

Blunt. Well, sir, I think he's first-chop, too. 

Jack. Ugh! triple dolt, brute, idiot. (Blunt about to speak.) 
Silence! get out! Stop, come and dress me! Ugh! pudding-head 
(shakes his fist at Blunt and hurries out l. h. , followed by Blunt). 

Mrs. T. Why, what's the matter with the boy? such a temper 
all of a sudden. 

Jessie {pouting). No wonder; he sees well enough that you're 
tired of me — that you want to get rid of me — that you — oh! oh! 
oh! [Runs out crying at n. 



70 pepperpot's little pets! 

Mrs. T. {astonished). There's some mystery here I must clear 
up. Jessie! Jessie! [^Hastens out after ^'E.^^ie. at n. 

Jack {without, at l. h., mry loud and angrily). Hold your 
tongue! don't answer me! don't be insolent!— there, there! {En- 
ters hurriedly from l. h.) Wheugh! I'm better now I've let 
off some of the steam! ha, ha! Poor old Blunt {stoppijig sud- 
denly). Stop, there's nothing to laugh at. I know I was a lit- 
tle bit out of temper — whose fault but his if I was? — with his 
infernal "first-chop;" but I'd no business to strike the poor fel- 
low, with my foot especially; I ought to be ashamed of myself. 
Ought to be? I am/ Here he comes {seeing Blunt, icJio enters 
at L, H., looking pale and serious; after a little hesitation Jack 
walks up to him). Stephen Blunt, I ask your pardon; there, 
that's settled ; now shake hands {holds out his hand; Blunt looks 
away). I'm sorry. Blunt, very sorry; would you like to kick me? 
or shall I kick myself? I'll try if you like! 

Blunt. I'd rather you had blown my brains out, captain. If 
any other man in the world had — had — you know what I mean 
— I'd have knocked him down. 

Jack {quietly). Then knock me down ! 

Blunt. As you are now, sir? no! but in a fair stand-up fight 
I would! — at least I'd try! 

Jack {with sudden excitement). What's that? Stand-up fight? 
this sort of thing? {sparring and hitting out). 

Blunt {iDith a broad grin). That's it, sir! If you'd only just 
let me knock you about for a round or two, I should feel like a 
man again! 

Jack {aside). I rather like this! I do, by Jove! There's some 
fun in having one's head punched by one's servant! {Aloud.) 
All right, old boy! you shall have satisfaction after your own 
fashion ! Look out for some nice quiet spot, and in ten minutes' 
time we'll have it out; in the mean time, mum, not a word. 

[Blunt runs out at c, , rubbing his hands in high glee. 

Jack {after a pause). I'd better by half have stopped in China 1 



PEPPERPOT*S LITTLE PETs! 71 

I can't stop here! I can't look quietly on — probably with my 
eye bunged up — and see the woman I love married to a Dicky ! 
No, no; I'll pack up at once! 

(Mrs. Tarletan and Jessie have entered r, h. during the 
above.) 

Mrs. T. {overhearing). Pack up? 

Jack. Yes, aunt. I'm off— good-by! 

Mrs. T. Off? Where— where? 

Jack. I don't know; somewhere or other — if not there, some- 
where else. Good-by! 

Mrs. T, John Pepperpot, you are deceiving me! I want the 
truth! you hear, sir, the truth! 

Jack. Do you? then you shall have it! I love Jessie — there! 
now you've got it! 

Jessie {joyously). You hear, aunty? He loves me; nie whom 
you are about to sacrifice — to immolate ! {in a tragic tone). 

Jack. On the altar of a Chirper! {in a similar tone). 

Jessie. It's cruel ! 

Jack. Barbarous! 

Jessie. Inhuman! 

Jack. Savage! 

Mrs. T. {who has been trying to speak). Will you let me speak? 
{To Jack.) You say you love Jessie? 

Jack. Awfully! 

Mrs. T. Well— unless, indeed, Jessie objects— 

Jessie {very quietly). But I don't! 

Mrs. T. In that case, the sooner you get married the better! 

Jessie. Oh, you kindest, best of aunties ! {kissing her). 

Mrs. T. Well, Jack, have you nothing to say to me? 

Jack. Only this : that you can't form the faintest idea what 
a trump you are ! 

Mrs. T. {suddenly). But what about poor Mr. Chirper? He'll 
be here presently. 



71^ pepperpot's little Pets! 

Jack. Of course, the sooner we put Dicky's pipe out the better. 

Mrs. T. I will speak to Dr. Jogtrot myself, and beg him to 
break the intelligence to his young friend. 

Jack. Very well {seeing Blunt, icho crosses at back). Blunt, 
by Jove! (Exchanges a sign with Blunt, wlio disappears.) Ex- 
cuse me for a few minutes — I'll be back directly (hurries up tow- 
ards c, running against Jogtrot, who enters). Beg pardon. 
(Aside to him.) My aunt's got a little bit of news for you that'll 
rather astonish your upper works. [Runs out at c. 

Mrs. T. You had better retire, Jessie. (Aside to her.) Leave 
everything to me! [Jessle exits at r. h. 

Jogtrot. It seems, my dear lady, you have a communication 
to make to me? 

Mrs. T. I have; a very important one! I have just made a 
discovery which I confess has given me the greatest possible 
pleasure. In a word, my nephew loves Jessie, and Jessie loves 
my nephew! 

Jogtrot (very quietly). In other words, Mr. Chirper is expect- 
ed to resign his pretensions in your nephew's favor? 

Mrs. T. Exactly! 

Jogtrot. My answer, madam, will be brief! I presented Mr. 
Chirper as a candidate for the hand of your niece, and, my word, 
you received him graciously. I cannot, therefore, become an 
accomplice in your inconsistency, not to say caprice ! 

Mrs. T. (impatiently). But don't I tell you the young people 
love each other? 

Jogtrot (very quietly). What of that? 

Mrs. T. (indignantly). What of that? 

Jogtrot. I myself have loved, madam 1 

Mrs. T. But perhaps the lady did not love you in return? 

Jogtrot. She did, madam, intensely! and married her danc- 
ing-master ! 

Mrs. T. (in a compassionate tone). Dear, dear! Of course you 
were inconsolable ! 



pepperpot's little pets! 73 

Jogtrot. No, madam, I went in for trigonometry, and that 
cured me! Why should your nephew not do the same? 

Mrs. T. Jack go in for trigonometry? ha! ha! Come, my dear 
doctor, you'll explain the state of affairs to Mr. Chirper, won't 
you? {coaxingly). 

Jogtrot {very stiffly). Certainly not, madam! 

Mrs. T. (angrily). Then / will — and in the mean time I beg 
to assure you that I consider you a very uncivil, unamiable, and 
intensely disagreeable person ! [Exit at l. h. 

Jogtrot. Umph! a decided check for Chirper — who, if he 
loses the young lady, will also lose the thousand pounds I owe 
him. But it isn't necessarily clueckmate. No, no ! as the young 
lady's legal guardian I shall have something to say yet! 

Enter Jack hastily at c. , putting on his coat. 

Jack i^aughing as he enters). Ha! ha! poor old Blunt! he soon 
had enough of it! {Seeing Doctor.) Well, you've seen my aunt 
— eh? She rather astonished you, didn't she? But really, now 
(taking Jogtrot's arm familiarly), you never thought your man 
had the ghost of a chance, did you? 

Jogtrot. My man? 

Jack. Yes, Dicky! here he is! {going up to meet Chirper, 
who enters at c). {Aside to him.) Our intellectual friend has 
something to tell you! Be a man, Dicky {slapping him on the 
hack). It's no use crying over spilt milk, my Trojan! 

[Exit at c. , Chirper staring after him in astonishment. 

Jogtrot {aside). There are circumstances under which a fib 
becomes a duty. {Aloud, and grasping Chirper's hand. ) I con- 
gratulate you, she's yours ! At least she will be ! 

Chirper {very quietly). Oh, joyful tidings. 

Jogtrot. But it is possible you may have a rival. 

Chirper {very quietly again). Oh, maddening thought! 

Jogtrot. But follow my advice and you shall win her yet. 
Never leave her side! say all sorts of tender things to her. By- 



74 pepperpot's little pets! 

the-bye, have you brought her a bouquet? No! Then go and 
get one— the bigger the better. Go at once — recollect, the big- 
ger the better (hurrying Chirper up stage, who goes out at c, 
shouting after hini) — the bigger the better! 

Jogtrot (coming down — then suddenly). By no means a bad 
idea of mine ; at any rate, it's well worth the trial ! Surely this 
fire-eating captain must have some blemish — some small vice or 
other, I don't care how small. I'll undertake to stretch it as far 
as it will go! Here comes his servant; I may be able to squeeze 
something out of him. 

Enter Bltint at c. , one of his cheeks very swollen. 

Jogtrot {beckoning Blunt). Here, my worthy creature ! I 
wish to speak to you. (Blunt touches his cap a?id advances.) A 
swollen face, I see! Toothache? 

Blunt. No, sir. I'll tell you how it was. /makes a feint with 
my left (hitting out, Jogtrot skips back), when slap comes a 
right-hander straight from the elbow (hitting out again. Jogtrot 
skips back again), and catches me bang on the— 

Jogtrot. Yes ; yes ! exactly ; but tell me, have you been long 
with your gallant master? 

Blunt. Better than ten years, sir! 

Jogtrot, The more to your credit, my fine fellow! here's a 
sovereign (gives money). 

Blunt. Thankee, sir! (Aside.) What's his little game, I won- 
der? 

Jogtrot. I like the captain! I like him much! Rather a 
lively temper, perhaps; a little bit quarrelsome — eh? slightly 
pugnacious — umph! — and a sad fellow among the women, I'm 
afraid! Ha! ha! ha! (poking Blunt m the side). 

Blunt. Who? Master? Not he! Only bring him face to 
face with a pretty wench, and see if he don't stand there a-stam- 
mering and blushing like any big lubberly school-boy. 

Jogtrot (aside). The scoundrel 2^071'^ speak! (Aloud.) I gave 



pepperpot's little pets! 75 

you a sovereign just now; oblige me by getting it changed for 
me. 

Blunt {aside). So, so. Wanted to pump me, did he? I'll 
bring him a pound's worth of coppers! 

[^Qoes up, meets Jack, who enters at c, stops and whis- 
pers Jack, pointing to Jogtrot, then exit at c. 

Jack. So, so! my serious friend, you not only, as my aunt 
tells me, refuse to withdraw your man, but you've been pump- 
ing Blunt about me, have you? {touching Jogtrot on the shoul- 
der). You can spare me time for half a dozen words? Thank 
you {vei'y quietly). It seems you are not over and above anxious 
that I should marry my cousin? {wry quietly). 

Jogtrot. Frankly, I am not! 

Jack {still very quietly). May I ask why? 

Jogtrot {aside). He doesn't seem very explosive. I'll go it a 
bit! {Aloud.) In the first place, from my limited acquaintance 
with military men, I confess — I — {shrugging his shoulders). 

Jack {still very quietly). Well, sir? 

Jogtrot {aside). He doesn't seem at all explosive ! I'll go it 
another hit. {Aloud.) And although you have left the army, you 
can scarcely have failed to contract certain habits and pursuits, 
which, in my opinion, are more or less antagonistic to happi- 
ness in the married state ! 

Jack {aside). I'm getting the fidgets in my right leg! {Aloud.) 
In short, you look upon me as a decidedly disreputable person? 
{loith difficulty restraining his passion). 

Jogtrot {alarmed and very quickly). I didn't say so! {Aside.) 
I sha'n't go it any more bits. {Aloud.) But seriously! you don't, 
you can't really believe you love your cousin? You've only just 
returned from China. 

Jack. What of that, as long as I didn't leave my heart behind 
me? 

Jogtrot. Still, this sudden, very auddeo^ remarkably sudden 



76 PEPPEKPOT S LITTLE PETS. 

attachment, some people might be ill-natured enough to — to— 
to— 

Jack {with increasing impatience). When you've quite done 
"to — to — toing," perhaps you'll get on. 

Jogtrot. I repeat, some people might attribute to the lady's 
fortune, rather than to the lady herself (iDith intention). 

Jack. Fortune? What, Jessie? {After a short pause.) Well, 
so much the better! Not that I was aware of it. 

Jogtrot (smiling significantly). Oh, you were not aware of it, 
eh? 

Jack {checking his anger). I have said so once, sir! 

Jogtrot {smiling satirically). Yes, you said so, certainly ! 

Jack {gulping down his anger, and very quietly). Have you 
quite done? Then suppose we change the conversation! Now, 
if the thing were properly put to you, which do you think you 
would prefer? — having your nose pulled (Jogtrot retreats), a 
sound horse-whipping (Jogtrot takes another jump backward), 
or a good kicking {swinging his right leg about; Jogtrot rushes 
out at c). 

Jack. Ha! ha! ha! {Suddenly stopping.) Zounds! these infer- 
nal little pets of mine will be the ruin of me ! Of course he'll 
tell aunt— she'll scold— Jessie '11 blubber— so shall I— at least I'll 
try. Our marriage will be — But he can't have left the house 
yet! I'll run after him! Memorandum for the future— when you 
feel a sudden impulse to strangle a man, do it. 

{Ru7is out at c after Jogtrot. 

Enter Mrs. Tarletan and Z'e.^^ie., followed by Jogtrot. 

Mrs. T. Surely, doctor, you must be mistaken? the thing is 
impossible ! 

Jogtrot. I grieve to say I have it from the best authority! 
an eye-witness. Half an hour ago, almost under this very roof, 
your nephew was engaged in a low, vulgar, disreputable, pugi- 
listic encounter with his own servant! 



pepperpot's little pets! 77 

Mrs. T. a pugilistic encounter? But the reason? — the mo- 
tive? 

Jogtrot {with malicious intention). Is perhaps not very diffi- 
cult to guess! Your waiting- woman, my informant, is a very 
comely young person; both master and man may have noticed 
it too— young men will be young men— a \\iWe jealousy perhaps? 
(Mrs. Tarletan hastily rings small bell which is on the table.) 

Enter Martha at r. h, 

Mrs. T. Come here, Martha! You have informed Doctor Jog- 
trot that you witnessed a scene recently, which I need not de- 
scribe, between Captain Pepperpot and his servant. Is this true? 

Martha. Yes, ma'am; they were hard at it, ma'am, behind 
the summer-house, ma'am, a fisticuffing one another {imitating 
absurdly). 

Mrs. T. ^ell me, has this man — Blunt, I think, is his name — 
ever given you reason to think he— admires you? 

Martha. Only so far as saying I was a niceish sort of girl! 
But lots have told me that! 

Jessie {mry eagerly). And — his master — perhaps he may have — 

Martha. Well, miss, the captain has certainly chucked me 
under the chin once or twice, but lots have done that I 

Mrs. T. You can go, Martha ! [^Exit Martha at r. h. 

Jessie. Oh, auntie, this is dreadful! I never could have be- 
lieved it of Jack ! never ! (stops on a sign from Mrs. Tarletan, 
who sees Jack enter at l. h.). 

Jack (as he enters hurriedly). Can't find him anywhere. (See- 
ing Jogtrot.) So, so! he's stolen a march on me. (Aside to Mrs. 
Tarletan.) Aunty, I suspect our serious friend here has been 
giving you his version of a certain little trumpery affair that — 
that— 

Mrs. T. {coldly). He has! 

Jack. Well, I confess I was just a trifle hasty! One of my 
little pets, you know; but if you only knew the provocation— 



78 peppebpot's little pets! 

Mrs. T. {satirically). We do know the provocation! 

Jessie {imitating Mrs. Tarletan's tone). Yes, we do know 
the provocation! 

Mrs. T. Come with me, doctor! We must have a little con- 
versation — serious conversation ! 

Jogtrot. At your service, my dear madam. {Aside.) I won- 
der how our gallant friend feels noic! 

{Exit at c. with Mrs. Tarletan, Jack staring after 
them bewildered. 

Jack. Jessie! 

Jessie {very dignified). Sir! 

Jack {astonished). "Sir!" What's the matter? You seem 
annoyed — vexed. 

Jessie. I am! 

Jack. Will you tell me why? 

Jessie {with comic severity). Ask your conscience, young man ! 

Bnier Martha at c. , carrying an enormous bouquet. 

Martha. This beautiful nosegay, miss— just come — with Mr. 
Chirper's compliments. [Gives nosegay, and exit r. h. 

Jessie. What a lovely bouquet! How very polite of Mr. 
Chirper! 

Jack {sulkily). There's plenty of it; looks more like a bunch 
of greens! Of course, Jessie, you won't accept it? 

Jessie {coldly). Why not? I'm fond of flowers \ 

Jack. Yes, but you're not fond of Dicky ! Come, Jessie, you'll 
return that bunch of greens — I mean that nosegay — to Mr. 
Chirper, won't you? 

Jessie {pretending to admire the flowers). Certainly not! 

Jack {checking his rising anger). Take care, Jessie ! I ask you 
once again! 

Jessie. I shall keep it! 

Jack {tenderly). Jessie!— cousin 1 

Jessie. I repeat, I shall keep it! 



pepperpot's little pets! 79 

Jack (furious). You shall not! {snatching bouquet from Jessie 
and tearing it to pieces). There, there, there ! (Jessie screams). 

Enter Mrs. Tarletan at c, followed by Doctor Jogtrot, 

Jessie. Oh, aunty {running to her), and you, sir {to Jogtrot), 
protect me from the violence of my cousin! Because Mr. Chirp- 
er sent me a nosegay, he has snatched it from me and torn it to 
pieces ! 

Jogtrot {advancing to Jack). Young man, I am amazed— 

Jack. Go to the devil ! {furiously; J ogtuot beats a reti'eat). 

Mrs. T. {sorroicfully). Oh, Jack, Jack! 

Jack. Harkee, aunt, it strikes me I've been made to play ra- 
ther a ridiculous part here. First, it's all Dicky, then it's all me! 
Now, it's all Dicky again ! One would almost think I had been 
used merely as a bait to catch a bigger fish ! 

Mrs. T. {reproacJifully). Oh, nephew, nephew ! 

Jogtrot {advancing). If you allude to Mr. Chirper, sir — 

Jack. Damn Mr. Chirper! 

[Hurries up, gimng nosegay a violent kick, and exit 
L. H. , slamming door violently after Tiim. 

Mrs. T. What a dreadful scene. 

Jessie (Jialf crying). I'll never marry him! — never! never! 
never! {picking up the flowers). 

Mrs. T. Reflect, Jessie, reflect! 

Jessie. I have reflected {trying to restrain her tears). Mr. 
Chirper may be a trifle sloio — and too fond of milk — but he 
wouldn't be always chucking young women under the chin — 
and fisti — fisti — cutting — I mean cuffing ! 

Jogtrot. Then I may at once convey the J03^ful tidings to the 
thrice-happy Chirper. 

Jessie, {harshly). Yes ! yes ! the sooner the better. 

[Jogtrot hurries out at c. 

Mrs. T. Oh, my darling! I fear you have been too rash — too 
impetuous. 
6 



80 pepperpot's little pets! 

Jessie. No ! I — 1— {suddenly throwing herself sobbing violently 
into Mrs. Tarletan's arms). 
Blunt Qieard without). All right, captain! 

Enter Blunt at l. h., carrying a portmanteau. 

Mrs. T. {to Blunt). Where are you taking that luggage? 

Blunt. To the nearest hotel hereabouts, ma'am. Master's off 
directly, and I'm going with him ! 

Mrs. T. Oh, then you bear him no malice? 

Blunt. Malice — me! What for, ma'am? 

Mrs. T. Pshaw! — in a word, I know what has lately taken 
place between you. 

Jessie. Yes! the fisti — fisti— you know {with a lame imitation 
of sparring). 

Mrs. T. {with intention). And we also know the cause! 

Blunt. Do you? and do you think I'd leave the captain just 
because of a little— little bit of a— kicking? 

Mrs. T. What? Then it wasn't about— her? 

Blunt (surprised). Her? 

Jessie. Yes. M — Martha! 

Blunt. What ! me and master fall out about a petticoat ? 
Ha! ha! Not we!. I suppose I had offended him somehow or 
other, and he got into one of his "little pets, "and— struck me — 
not with his hand, ma'am. It nearly broke my heart. He saw 
it, and, like a true gentleman as he is, he asks me, with almost 
tears in his eyes, to give him a good hiding, and we sets at it at 
once then and there; and that's all about it, ma'am. 

Mrs. T. {suddenly). Take that luggage away. Not a word. 
Kemember, I am commanding officer here! (Blunt makes a sa- 
lute). In the mean time I'll see your master. 

Jessie. Yes, we'll see your master. 

Blunt. Do please, ladies ; and if you'd only try just to cheer 
him up a bit. 

Jessie {eagerly). Is he unhappy, then? 



pepperpot's little pets! 81 

Blunt. All I know is, as he was ramming his things into his 
portmanteau with his fists — this sort of thing {imitating). — I saw 
a great big one hanging to the tip of his nose. 

Jessie. A great big what? Not a tear? 

Blunt. Yes, miss! he said it was a cold in his head, but I 
know better. 

Jack (Jieard from room l. h.). Blunt! Blunt! 

Blunt. Coming, sir! (about to run to the door l. h.). 

Mrs. T. {pointing to c. ). That way, if you please. Remember, 
obedience is the first duty of a soldier. 

[Blunt makes a salute, and exit at c. icitli portman- 
teau. 

Jessie. Oh, aunty ! only fancy poor Jack with a tear hang-' 
ing to the tip of his great big nose — I mean, a great big tear! 
Why, tohy did you let me tell my guardian that I'd never marry 
Jack? Bo run after him, and tell him I've changed my mind, 
and that I'll never, never, never marry any one else. l)o make 
haste, aunty dear. Do be a little bit impetuous like me {during 
this she has urged Mrs. Tarletan toicards c). 

Mns.T. (laughing). Spoiled child! spoiled child! (kisses her, 
and hurries out at c). 

Enter Jack at door l. h. , dressed in timed travelling suit, an omr- 
coat omr his arm, and a s^nall bag in his hand. 

Jack (stops on seeing Jessie). A thousand pardons, Jes — I 
mean Miss Manvers. I expected to find my aunt. 

Jessie {archly). And you are disappointed at finding only me? 

Jack (aside). What unseemly levity! {Aloud.) I cannot leave 
her roof without wishing her good-by. 

Jessie. Of course not — ^but you're not going? {smiling). 

Jack {assuming a very dignified 7nanner). I beg your pardon, 
miss! 

Jessie (imitating Jack). I beg yours, sir! 

Jack. What! remain here and see you married? 



82 pepperpot's little pets! 

Jessie. Of course ; how can I get married unless you do re- 
main? 

Jack (indignantly). You don't expect me to give Dicky away, 
I hope? 

Jessie. No; but I certainly do expect you will give yourself 
away! and to me who love you, oh, so dearly! 

Jack (throwing away Ms coat, etc., and clasping Jessie in his 
arms). Jessie darling! But what— what does it all mean? 

Jessie (very rapidly). That I know ichy you got fisti — fisti— 
you know — with your servant; that it wasn't about Martha at 
all; that all my guardian said about you was a great big story! 

Jack. Oh! oh! So old Jogtrot has been poking his ugly nose 
into my affairs again, has he? (Savagely.) I'll wring it off! 

Jessie {holding up her finger). Now listen to me, Cousin Jack; 
if you cannot and do not control that dreadfully peppery tem- 
per of yours — 

Jack (very quickly). But I tcillf I swear it by — by this (tak- 
ing small hand-hell off table). Now, Jessie, if ever you see me 
getting the least little bit frantic, you've only to — 

Jessie. I understand (taking bell and ringing it). 

Jack. That's it ! 

Jessie {looking towards c). Here comes my guardian ; now 
do as I tell you. Go over there {^mniing ; Jack moves a few 
paces from her); farther than that! Now cross your arms (Jack 
obeys) ; look sulky ! 

Jack. This sort of thing? {putting on a sulky look). 

Jessie. Worse than that (Jack puts on a hideous grimace). 
That's better! Now turn your back to me (Jack obeys; Jessie 
also turns her back on Jack), 

Jack {looking round). Isn't there time just for one kiss? 

Jessie. No — no. 

Jack. Only a tiny one! 

Jessie. Hush! {they both hastily resume their positions back to 
back). 



pepperpot's little pets! 83 

Enter Jogtrot at c. 

Jogtrot {seeing them). Dos-a-dos! The lady pouting — the 
gentleman frowning! Then the storm I contrived to raise is 
still at its height {coming down and touching Jack on the shoul- 
der; Jack turns to him with an intensely savage expression of 
face, making Jogtrot start hack). 

Jogtrot {in a soothing tone). Cheer up, my gallant young 
friend; the sex, you know, is capricious — "sipping each flower, 
changing each hour." It is sad — very sad! 

Jack {sulkily). For me, not for you, who have always opposed 
my marriage with my cousin. 

Jogtrot. I? On the contrary, not ten minutes ago I asked her 
if she had an}^ lingering affection for you, and her answer was — 

Jessie. That I would marry Mr. Chirper. 

Jogtrot. There, there! you hear? 

Jessie. Yes, but {imitating Jogtrot), "the sex is so capri- 
cious," you know — "sipping each flower, changing each hour." 
So now, Guardy, I'll marry Jack, please {bobbing a courtesy ; 
then running to Jack, who takes her in his arms). 

Jogtrot {shouting). Stop ! that's all wrong {seeing Mrs. Tar- 
letan and Chirper, icho enter at c). You're just in time, mad- 
am ! There's a gigantic, a colossal mistake here! 

Mrs. T. {smiling). A mistake? Not at all! 

Jogtrot. Not at all! Am I to understand, then, madam, that 
after the deplorable — scandalous scene of this morning — 

Mrs. T. Which has been fully explained, and will never be 
repeated ! 

Jack. Never ! I've sworn it {looking at Jessie and pointing to 
the small bell on the table). No more tempers, no more ' ' little 
pets." 

Jogtrot {aside). One more chance! {Aloud.) All I desire is 
my ward's happiness ! happiness ! — poor girl ! {shrugging his slioul- 
ders and giving a deep sigh). 



84 pepperpot's little pets! 

Jack {bristling up sharply.) What's thatV 

Jogtrot {sneeringly). I believe, sir, I have ah'eady expressed 
my opinion of military men — as husbands! 

Jack {threateningly). Take my advice, sir, and leave military 
men alone, or else — (Jessie takes small bell and rings it; Jack 
falls into chair laughing.) 

Jogtrot. In a word — 

Mrs. T. Pardon me, doctor, you have said quite enough al- 
ready ! 

Jessie {indignantly), ifcre than enough, Doctor Jogtrot! {ad- 
vancing on Jogtrot, who retreats; she follows him up). For the 
last ten minutes you've been insulting a better man than your- 
self. Doctor Jogtrot! — a/«r better man. Doctor Jogtrot! 

Jack {aside). Halloa! here's Jessie getting into a pet! (takes 
second small bell and rings it ; Jessie and Jack fall into chairs 
roaring with laughter and ringing their bells, Jogtrot staring at 
them in astonishment). 

Chirper {to Jogtrot, in a sympathizing tone). My dear re- 
spected friend — 

Jogtrot (turning fiercely on Chirper). And you ! standing 
there like a gaping idiot— ugh ! 

Jack. Oh, Dicky's all right ! he's got his cow ; hain't you, 
Dicky? 

Chirper. And the Philotechnic, where, by-the-bye, I am now 
due. 

Jogtrot. So am I. Come along {slams his hat on Iiis liead, 
puts his arm in Chirper' s, swings him round, and drags him out 
at c). 

Jack {taking Jessie's hand). Mine ! mine at last ! 

Jessie {smiling). But remember. Jack, no more irritability, no 
more tempers. 

Jack. No ! Here, here I vow, protest, and declare is the last 
of Pepperpot's little Pets! {kisses Jessie's ?iand as curtain falls). 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

^ometiietta, in @ne ^ct. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Mrs. Pelican. 

Mrs. Major Pelican. 

Fanny. 



Major Pelican. 

Dr. Vicessimus Pretttwell. 

Joseph (a servant). 

Scene.— Major Pelican's Villa in St. John's Wood. 

A handsomely furnished apartment. Door at c, doors r. h. and 
L. H. ; a window at hack, at r. c. 
Joseph {discovered lounging in an easy-chair, his legs upon an- 
other, a neiDspaper open in Ms hand). Now, then, for a quiet 
sqaint at the sporting intelligence. See if I can't pick out a 
likely one for the Great Cricklewood Handicap. {Bell rings at 
L. H.) Of course! No indulging in literary pursuits in this 
house! That's the young missus's bell, and she can't bear being 
kept waiting. Well, I suppose it's only natural for young people 
to be impatient {getting up arid going toicards l.h, ; hell at r. h. 
is heard to ring). Now the old lady's at it, and she's always in 
a hurry, she is ! Well, I suppose old people can't afford to wait 
{going towards door r. h. ; hell at l. h. rings again, then the hell at 
R. H. ; then both hells are rung violently; Joseph running hack- 
ward a7id forward). 

Enter Major Pelican at c. 
Major. Well, Joseph, don't you hear the bell? 
Joseph. I hear two of them, sir. 
Major. Then why don't you go? 



86 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Joseph. I don't know which way to go, sir! I can't answer 
both bells at once, sir! (Jiere loth bells are heard to ring again). 

Enter Doctor Prettywell at c. 

Joseph (to INIajor). What am I to do, sir? 

Doctor {coming cloicn). Do what you are doing now ! 

Joseph. I ain't doing nothing, sir. 

Doctor. Then keep on doing nothing. It's about the best 
thing you can do. 

Joseph. But I shall catch it from loth my missusses, sir! 

Doctor. At first perhaps you icill; but when they find they've 
both fared alike, they'll each feel secretly flattered by the inat- 
tention you show to the other. Go to your work. 

Joseph. Yes, sir. \^Exit at c. 

Doctor. Well, friend Jeremiah! 

Major. Well, friend Vicessimus! 

Doctor. I seem to have dropped in at rather an unlucky mo- 
ment; but frankly, if I were to wait till your domestic barome- 
ter pointed to "calm and settled " weather, I'm afraid my visits 
wouldn't be very frequent. 

Major. True, my dear doctor. 

Doctor. I don't know how you manage it, but you generally 
contrive to have a thunder-storm, more or less violent, rumbling 
over this house of yours. 

Major. True again, and I'll tell you why. Because this 
"house of mine," as you call it, is constantly exposed to two 
discordant elements from opposite directions, but invariably 
coming into contact and exploding here! 

Doctor. I don't exactly understand. 

Major. It's very simple. Living here with my mother and 
my wife, who loth claim to be "monarch of all they survey," I, 
the master of the house — 

Doctor. Find yourself cutting rather a contemptible figure — 
eh? 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 87 

Major. Very mucli so. It would be easy enough to do as 
Georgina wishes, or my mother, but to do as they both wish is 
impossible, for the simple reason that no two women ever wish 
the same thing, consequently, the result is anger on one side, sulky 
looks on the other, one invokes her title of " mother," the other 
her privileges of "wife;" consequently, between the two — 

Doctor. You come in for more kicks than half -pence? 

Major. Considerably more! In fact, all kicks. 

Doctor. And yet I don't know a more charming, amiable 
person than your excellent mother. I've known and admired her 
for more than thirty years; in fact, had it depended on me, I 
might very possibly have been your father. 

Major. Thank you. But I'm very well satisfied as I am ; be- 
sides, the thing couldn't be done now. 

Doctor. Not conveniently ! However, she preferred marry- 
mg the "author of your being, "so there was an end of my ro- 
mance! But to return to these unfortunate domestic quarrels; 
from what I know of your mother, I am convinced the fault lies 
witn your wife. 

Major. And from what I know of my wife, I'm certain it lies 
with my mother. 

Doctor. Then, my good friend, why not at once put an end 
to these personal and conjugal troubles of yours? 

Major. How? 

Doctor. Simply thus. Appoint one of the two contending 
parties — no matter which— to the sole control of your domestic 
affairs; support her authority through thick and thin, give her 
credit for always being right, even when she's wrong, and the 
thing's done! 

Major. A very good plan, I dare say, but, unluckily, it's im- 
practicable. 

Doctor. Why? 

Major. Because it would require a considerable amount of 
pluck to carry it out, and I hain't got an atom. 



8» AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Doctor. Konsense ! You've only to show a proper spirit. 

Major. How can I do that wlien I hain't any spirit at all ? 

Doctor. Pshaw i Recollect, Nero was a perfect lamb at start- 
ing, and yet he fiddled when Rome was burning. 

Major. But I'm not a Nero ! Besides, I hain't got a fiddle, 
and I couldn't fiddle if I had. 

Mrs. p. > {from rooms r. and Ij.— together). Joseph! 

Mrs. Major. S Joseph! 

Doctor. Here they both come! Do as I tell you, pluck up a 
proper spirit; in the mean time I'll beat a retreat {runs out ate). 

Major (shouting after him). Coward 1 to leave me alone to the 
mercy of two exasperated females! 

Enter Mrs. Pelican hurriedly at r. h. 

Mrs. p. This is perfectly intolerable! 

Mrs. Major. It's absolutely unbearable! (entering hurriedly 
at L. H.). 

Mrs. p. To take no notice of my bell ! 

Mrs. Major. What's the use of my ringing? 

Mrs. p. Oh I here you are, son Jeremiah. 

Major. Yes, my dear mother; {aside) and I devoutly wish I 
was anywhere else! 

Mrs. p. {turning him round towards Tier). I appeal to you to 
see that my authority in this house is respected ! 

Mks OR {with pretended surprise). What! Has any one dared — 

Mrs. Major {turning him towards her). I presume you won't 
allow me to be treated with inattention? 

Major {with pretended surprise again). What ! Has any one 
presumed — 

Mrs. p. {aside to Mm). But what's the matter with your wife? 
She seems out of temper! 

Major. Yes! because Joseph didn't attend to her summons 
at once. When you require him, he knows better than to do 
that! 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 89 

Mrs. Major (aside to Mm). Your mother appears annoyed at 
something or other? 

Major. No wonder! Joseph didn't answer her bell. He 
knows better than keep you waiting. (Aside.) What a humbug 
I am! 

Mrs. p. By-the-bye, Jeremiah, I have ordered dinner an horn- 
later to-day. 

Mrs. Major. Indeed? and for whatfeason, pray? 

Mrs. p. Because it suits me. 

Major. Oh! of course, my dear Georgina, if it suits her — 

Mrs. Major. But it doesn't suit me. I expect Mr, Simcox, 
the jeweller, early this evening, and cannot dine later than five. 

Major. Oh ! of course, my dear mother, if she expects Mr. 
Simcox — 

Mrs. p. It's too late now, the dinner will be served at six 
o'clock. 

Mrs. Major. I won't give way ! It will be on the table at 
five. 

Mrs. p. Six. 

Mrs. Major. Five. 

Major (aside). There they are again! hard at it! hammer and 

tongs ! 

Ente?' Joseph, rumiing, at c. 

Joseph. Please, ma'am, please, sir, here's Miss Fanny just 
driven up in a cab from the station! 

Mrs. p. Fanny! 

Major. What can have brought her back? 

Fanny (heard speaking off at c). Gently, my good man, with 
that box! My best hat's in it! such a beauty too! (runs in ate. ; 
she is in a light suimner travelling costnme^. Here I am ! How 
astonished you all look ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! (Running to Mrs. Major 
P. ) Dear Georgina ! so glad to see you once again (kissing her — 
Nodding to Major). How do, brother Jeremiah? and you, dear 
mamma? (about to kiss Mrs. Pelican). 



90 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Mrs. p. {stiffly). I was not aware, miss, that it was usual for 
a well-educated young lady to address her sister-in-law before 
her mother! 

Fanny. Did I? So sorry, dear mamma. I really didn't see 
you at first. 

Major {aside). I'm sure she's big enough! 

Fanny Qwlding up her face to Mrs. P. ). Well, mamma, won't 
you kiss me? {Slyly.) You know you're punishing yourself as 
well as me. 

Mrs. p. Who can resist the dear child? {kissing Fanny). But 
we thought your visit to your Cheltenham friends was intended 
to last another week? 

Fanny. So it was, but they were obliged to return to town, 

so they brought me with them, put my luggage into a cab at the 

station, me on the top — I mean my luggage on the top— and 

here I am ! 

Enter Joseph at l, h. 

Joseph. Luncheon is on the table, sir. 

Mrs. p. Very well, Joseph. {Aside to Major.) Don't forget 
what I said about the dinner. 

Major {aside to her). All right; six o'clock, sharp! 

Mrs, Major {aside to Major). Remember what I decided 
about the dinner-hour! 

ls\h.iQ)^ {aside to her). All right; five o'clock, sharp! {Aside.) 

Between the two the chances are I sha'n't get any dinner at all! 

\Exeunt Mrs. Pelican and Major at r. h. 

Fanny. I'm so glad we're alone at last, Georgina; we can 
have a nice long chat together all alone ; and I've such a lot to 
tell you! 

Mrs. Major. Well, I'm all attention! But first, how did 
you enjoy your trip to Cheltenham? 

Fanny. Not much. I found it rather slow. Nothing but a 
collection of bilious-looking fogies being wheeled about in Bath- 
chairs. But never mind that; I've something else to talk about! 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 91 

Mrs. Major {smiling). Something very serious, no doubt. 

Fanny. Awfully serious ! Listen! At the very first ball I 
went to at the Assembly-rooms — 

Mrs. Major. A very brilliant affair, of course! 

Fanny. Really, Georgina, if you keep on interrupting me in 
this sort of way — 

Mrs. Major. I beg your pardon ! Well? 

Fanny. Well, at my very first ball I danced with a gentleman 
once or twice — perhaps three or four times. 

Mrs. IVIajor. Young, of course {smiling). 

Fanny. Rather! 

Mrs. Major. Handsome? 

Fanny {mry quickly). Very! Well, judge of my surprise 
when, the very next morning, as I was sitting in the drawing- 
room, the door opened and the servant announced " Captain 
Boodle!" 

Mrs. Major. The "young gentleman?" (5m^7m^). 

Fanny. Yes. 

Mrs. Major. Perhaps you had given him your address? 

Fanny {indignantly). Not I, indeed! He didn't ask for it, or 
perhaps I might ! Well, the next morning he called again, and 
the following morning, and the morning after that — in short, 
every morning — and as I was always in the drawing-room, of 
course quite by accident — 

Mrs. Major. You naturally became quite intimate — familiar 
and chatty. 

Fanny. He didn't, /did all the clmtting part! Never did I 
see any one so timid, so bashful, as Boodle. When he did try 
to say something, there he'd stand stammering and stuttering 
and blushing like a school-girl ! But although his tongue didn't 
say much, his eyes did ! 

Mrs. Major {smiling). And they said, "I love you?" 

Fanny. Distinctly! Well, I thought to myself it's not a bit 
of use going on like this. It's quite evident the poor man wor- 



92 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

ships the very ground I tread upon. So when he called next 
day, and I told him, in tremulous accents, of course, that I was 
going away, the effect was magical. First he turned pale, then 
red, then blue ; then he let his hat fall, then his umbrella, then 
himself — on both his knees, at both my feet, and there, I believe, 
he would have remained till further notice, if I hadn't said to 
him, "Augustus " — his name is Augustus — "I won't pretend to 
misunderstand you. You love me! I am yours!" 

Mrs. Major. What! Such an act of thoughtlessness, of in- 
discretion, on your part! 

Fanny. Perhaps it was, but I know this : it quite cured him 
of his timidity; for when he once did begin, I never heard any- 
body's tongue rattle on at such a rate as his did — never! 

Mrs. Major. And the result, I presume, was — 

Fanny. That we both, then and there, exchanged vows of 
constancy and locks of hair ! His is rather red, by-the-bye 1 But 
I see mamma coming! 

Mrs. Major. Then I'll retire. Seeing us closeted together 
would only arouse her ridiculous jealousy. 

Fanny. And I'll see if I can't find an opportunity to slip in 
a word about Augustus. In the mean time you'll keep my 
secret? 

Mrs. Major. Religiously ! for your sake ( going up). 

Fanny. And Boodle's. 

Mrs. Major (turning and smiling). And Boodle's. 

{Exit at c. 
Enter Mrs. Pelican at r. h. 

Mrs. p. Oh, here you are, Fanny ! 
Fanny. Yes, mamma! and quite alone. 
Mrs. p. Now! But you were not alone. 
Fanny. No, dear Georgina was with me. 
Mrs. p. And "dear Georgina," no doubt, lost no opportunity 
of prejudicing you against your mother! 
Fanny. Oh, mamma! {reproachfully). 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 93 

Mrs. p. But fortunately you will not long be exposed to her 
pernicious influence. 

Fanny. Oh, mamma! 

Mrs. p. Bring a chair and sit down by me. 

Fanny {sitting down hy Mrs. Pelican's side— aside). I wonder 
what's coming? 

Mrs. p. I have 'something serious to say to you, Fanny. 

Fanny. So have I to you, mamma — very serious! 

Mrs. p. Indeed ! In the mean time, as I happen to be your 
mother, and you, consequently, happen to be my daughter, per- 
haps you'll allow me to hegm. first? 

Fanny. Certainly, 

Mrs. p. Then listen. Although you are still very young — 

Fanny. Nineteen next birthday, mamma. 

Mrs. p. Don't interrupt me! Although you are still young, 
I have been reflecting a good deal lately on that all-important 
subject, your future settlement in life! 

Fanny {quickly). So have I, mammal {Aside.) I shall be able 
to get in a word presently about Augustus ! 

Mrs. p. In other words, don't you consider it high time you 
thought of matrimony? 

Fanny {very quickly). I do, mamma ! I'm always thinking 
of it! 

Mrs. p. But of course it isn't likely you can have any one in 
your eye yet I 

Fanny. I beg your pardon ! Ihavef 

Mrs. p. {severely). What's that you say? 

Fanny. That is — I mean— of course I hain't! {Aside.) It 
won't do to say anything about Augustus yet ; I must keep him 
dark! 

Mrs. p. Then you have no positive antipathy to the married 
state ? 

Fanny. I should think not, indeed ! {very quickly). 

Mrs. p. {severely). My dear, I'm really surprised to hear a 



94 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

well - educated young lady express herself in such, I might al- 
most say indelicate, terms. But to return ; I need not say I 
would not encourage any candidate for your hand who was not 
deserving of you. 

Fanny. Of course not, mamma! He must be worthy of such 
a treasure ! 

Mrs. p. Tolerably young, and not absolutely ill-looking ! 

Fanny {eagerly). Certainly not! (Aside.) I call Augustus de- 
cidedly good-lookmg ! 

Mrs. p. And in the possession of ample means. 

Fanny {aside). Augustus has got ever so much already, be- 
sides two rich maiden aunts and an aged godmother ! 

Mrs. p. All of which qualifications are, fortunately, in the pos- 
session of Sir Marmaduke Mangle ! 

Fanny. Sir Marmaduke Mangle? Lor, mamma, you can't 
mean that little old man we met at Brighton, with a bad cough, 
a wig, and a canary-colored complexion ? 

Mrs. p. He's not old by any means, and is only slightly cana- 
ry-colored after all! However, he has seen you, he admires 
you, and offers you his hand, his heart, his title, and his fort- 
une! 

Fanny. But I don't love him, mamma ! I never could love him 
— even if I didn't love somebody else ! 

Mrs. p. {starting). What's that I hear? You love somebody 
else? 

Fanny. Yes, and one who loves me, and one I'm determined 
to marry, or die an old maid. There! 

Mrs. p. {angrily). Silence, miss! 

Fanny {impatiently). I won't silence! If you think Sir Mar- 
maduke such a very great catch, marry him yourself! I'll con- 
sent to it, and give you away into the bargain! It's quite evi- 
dent you were never in love! 

Mrs. p. I beg your pardon ! I was, intensely, with a youthful 
doctor! {Aside.) Poor Vicessiraus ! Ah ! {giving a long sigh). 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM, 95 

Nevertheless, I married your father — and we were not so xery 
unhappy, considering! {To Fanny, icJio is about to speak.) Not 
another word! My mind is made up, so the sooner you malve 
up yours to become Lady Mangle the better! 

Enter Mrs. Major and Major at c.,folloioe(l by Joseph. 

Mrs. Major. Nothing so simple, Joseph ! Tell Mary to put 
up a bed for Miss Fanny in her mamma's room ! 

Mrs. p. {sharply). What's that? Put up a bed in my room? 

Mrs. Major. Yes! Why not? 

Mrs. p. Because I won't allow it! 

Major {aside). There they are, at it again ! 

Fanny. But why can't I have my own snug little room? 

Mrs. Major. The fact is, I have made a work-room of it for 
myself; besides, Fanny's proper place is with her mother. 

Mrs. p. Quite out of the question! The slightest noise dis- 
turbs my sleep. 

Fanny. But I sleep so very quietly, mamma — you'd scarcely 
hear me breathe ; I don't, and as for snoring — 

Mrs. p. I won't hear another word. 

Major. But, hang it all, Fanny must sleep someiohere! She 
requires a horizontal position as much as other people, 

Mrs. P, Then let her jQnd one— but not in my room! 

Mrs. Major. I insist on my wishes being carried out. 

Fanny {aside to Major). Oh, brother Jeremiah, if I was only 
in your place just for five minutes! 

Major {aside). She's quite right! I'm master here after all, 
confound it! If I'm 7iot, I ought to be; and if I ought to be, I 
will be, confound it ! {Aloud, and assuming an authoritative 
manner.) My patience is exhausted! Anarchy has presided too 
long over my domestic hearth. 

Fanny {aside to liim). Confound it! 

Major. Confound it! 

Mrs. P. io 't t » 

Mrs. Major, S 

7 



96 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Major. And henceforth I'm determined to be master of my 
own house. (Fanny icMspers Mm.) Confound it! 

Major. But there must be a mistress as well. 

Mrs. p. ) Of course! Well {anxiously), decide between 

Mrs. Major. ) us. 

Major. That's what I'm going to do. {Aside.) It's really very 
awkward! My mother screams loudest, but my wife screams 
longest; besides, I only hear my mother in the day, whereas my 
wife— 

Mrs. p. {to Major). Well? which of the two is to be mistress 
here? 

Mrs, Major. Yes, which of the two? 

Major {afUr a violent effort). My wife! There! I've said it. 
(Fanny lohispers him. ) Confound it ! 

Mrs. p. Ah! {screaming and falling into a chair). 

Mrs. Major. Come, major, and as your reward you shall hear 
me issue my orders in such a style, 

[^Exit at L. H. , hurrying Major with her, and calling, as 
she goes out, J oseTphl Mary! Sophia! 

Mrs. p. (suddenly starting up from her chair). So ! she — she's 
to be everybody, and I'm to be nobody! a cipher, a nouenlity! 
Was there ever such ingratitude? I, who left my own home to 
live with them, without even waiting to be asked, to give them 
the benefit of my experience, to take upon myself the entire con- 
trol of their domestic affairs — nay, even to carry my maternal 
affection so far as not to allow either of them to interfere in 
anything whatever! 

Fanny {aside). Poor dear mamma! she doesn't see that's the 
very reason why everything went wrong. 

Mrs. P, But I'll forget them, I'll renounce them, I'll cast 
them off, I'll abandon them to their unhappy fate; and when 
you're comfortably married, dear, I'll come and live with you 
{throwing her arms round Fanny, icho tries to speak). No 
thanks, I see you are literally bursting with gratitude ; but I am 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 97 

rewarded already ! I feel it here — here ! {striking her breast, then 
flings her arms round Fanny again, and hurries out atn. h.). 

Fanny. Mercy on us! here's a pretty piece of business! Live 
with me when I am married! Poor Augustus! he little suspects 
what a rod there is in pickle for him! It's all Jeremiah's fault, 
and it's poor little I who am punished. 

TfoCTO-R {without). In the parlor, is she? Very well! 

Fanny. Surely that's dear Doctor Pretty well's voice! 

Enter Doctor at c. 

Doctor. Ah! my dear young friend, delighted to see you! 

Fanny. Not more than I am to see you, doctor! 

Doctor. But let me look at you. How we're grown ! I declare 
we're quite a young woman ! 

Fanny. Yes, doctor. 

Doctor. And a very pretty one, too ! 

Fanny". Yes, doctor. 

Doctor {looking intently at Fanny). She's the very image of 
her mother as she teas thirty years ago ; the same soft blue eyes, 
before she took to spectacles, the same fairy form, before it filled 
out, the same alabaster brow, before the wrinkles set in ! 

Fanny (aside). How earnestly he looks at me ! I hope I hain't 
fascinated him as well as Sir Marmaduke! {Suddenly.) Good- 
ness me! what if he should be the "youthful doctor" mamma 
was speaking about? {Doctor looks at her again and gives a loud 
sigh.) What a sigh! It must be he. He may still have some 
lingering affection for her ; the flame may not be quite burnt out ; 
there may be a tiny spark left which a little gentle bloicing may 
rekindle into a blaze. It isn't very likely; still, I may as well 
try what a little "blowing" may do. 

Doctor. Well, now that your education is completed, and 
you've come home brimful of accomplishments, of course you'll 
go into society, and, like other young ladies, pick up a hus- 
band? 



98 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Fanny {witli affected indifference). A husband? Not I, indeed! 
I've never even thought of such a thing! {Aside.) I had no idea 
I could fib so well! {Aloud.) No, doctor! I've too much regard 
for my own tranquillity, my own peace of mind ! 

Doctor. Hoity-toity! "Who's been putting such nonsense into 
your head? 

Fanny. "Why, you yourself never ventured on matrimony ! 

Doctor. No ! because I — I — Heigh-ho ! {giving a loud sigh). 

Fani^y {aside, and smiling). The "tiny spark " is gradually 
getting into a blaze! I did quite right in trying the effect of a 
little "blowing /" (Aloud.) Besides, I have come to the conclu- 
sion, from considerable personal experience, that the male sex in 
general — I mean, taken in a lump — is no better than it should be. 

Doctor (laugMng). Indeed! 

Fanny. I'm sorry to say they're a false, fickle, perfidious lot! 
They gain a poor confiding woman's heart only to trifle with it 
and trample on it ! Poor dear mamma ! I am no longer surpiised 
at your little fits of temper — at your discontent with everything 
and everybody — now that I know the sad circumstances which 
blighted your youth and cast a gloom over your after-life ! {with 
affected pathos). 

Doctor (aside). What do I hear? {Aloud, and anxiously.) 
Has your mother, then, revealed? 

Fanny. No; but she might just as well, because I was sure to 
find it out. 

Doctor. Find out ichat f 

Fanny. A lot of things! Ah, doctor! if 3'ou had only heard 
her sigh as I have ! 

Doctor. Sigh? 

Fanny. Yes; but that's not all. Poor mamma! You'd hard- 
ly believe the number of pearly drops I've seen fall from her 
poor eyes into her teacup. 

Doctor. Pearly drops? 

Fanny. But that's not all ! {In a very mysterious manner. ) I 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 99 

once lieard her, when she h'ttle thought I was listening, say, in 
faltering accents, "Ah! if he had really loved me, would he not 
have declared his passion when I became a widow?" 

Doctor. Did she? (Aside.) She loves me still! Dear Cleo- 
patra ! 

Fanny. Who can she mean? I should so like to know. Per- 
haps, doctor, you'll help me to find out ; but here she comes 
(looking toicards c. Doctor gives a violent start). Why, what's 
the matter? 

Doctor. Nothing; only a sort of a kind of a— of a — I scarce- 
ly know whether I am standing on my head or my heels! 

Fanny. On your head, of course ! 

Doctor. I thought so. 

Mrs. p. (heard tcitJiout). Joseph! Joseph! 

Doctor (aside). I can't meet her yet. The agitation — the 
trepidation — the perturbation — the — 

Fanny. Perhaps you'd better retire, doctor, (aside) or else he'll 
be flopping down on his knees to mamma before I've prepared 
her for the shock ! 

Enter Mrs. Pelican at r. yl. , folloiced by Joseph. 
Mrs. p. Joseph, inform your master that I shall dine in my 
own apartment. 

[Joseph hows and goes out r. h. Doctor meets Mrs. 
Pelican as she comes down — looks tenderly at her — 
clasps his hands, and gives a deep sigh; then hurries 
up — stops again at c. — turns — gives her another ten- 
der look — another deep sigh, and hurries out at c. 

Mrs. p. (loatcliing Doctor in astonishment). Why, what's the 
matter with the man? 

Fanny (aside). It's your turn now, mamma! You wanted to 
get a husband for me; so as one good turn deserves another, I'll 
see if I can't find one for you ! 



100 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Mrs. p. {aside). I must find out who this "girlish fancy "of 
hers is. (Aloud.) Come here, Fanny. Of course your happiness 
is all I desire ! 

Fanny. And it's all /desire too, mamma! 

Mrs. p. Then have confidence in your mother — your only 
mother! Tell me the name of the young man who has won your 
affections. 

Fanny. You asked me if I had any one in my eye, and I said 
I had, but I didn't tell you he was a young man. The fact is, 
mamma, I've been so often told that I am so giddy, so thoughtless, 
so flighty, that I selected some one of maturer years ; he would 
give me the benefit of his experience — his advice— his — his — 

Mrs. p. Maturer years? 

Fanny. Yes! Besides, he has known me so long! — ever since 
I was a tiny little mite. He used to dandle me on his knee, and 
buy me dolls and toys and sweeties and hardbake and elecam- 
pane, and all that sort of thing ! 

Mrs. p. {aside). Known her for years! {Suddenly.) Mercy on 
us! can she be alluding to " Vicessimus?"' 

Fanny. But, ma dear, that which attracted more than all was 
the respectful, I may say the affectionate, terms in which he al- 
ways speaks of you. 

Mrs. p. Does he? {Aside. ) Poor fluttering heart, be still ! Dear 
Vicessimus! He hain't, then, quite forgot his Cleopatra! {Aloud.) 
But is Doctor Prettywell — for it surely must be he to whom 
your remarks apply — 

Fanny. Yes, mamma. 

Mrs. p. {aside). I thought so. {Aloud.) Is he aware of your 
somewhat foolish partiality ? 

Fanny, I think so. He'll tell you why! Whenever he used 
to call, and we happened to be sitting side by side— I mean you 
and I, mamma— I noticed that he always kept his eye fixed on 
us, and it always made me blush so. 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 101 

Mrs. p. {aside). Poor simple child. She flatters herself that 
it was on he7' that Vicessimus's enamoured glances were riveted, 

Fanny. And don't you recollect the last time he took us to 
the theatre, how attentive, how polite he was to you? 

Mrs. p. Yes. I remember he brought me three oranges and 
an ounce of acidulated drops into our box. 

Fanny. And if you only had heard him just now, when I 
told him how shamefully you had been treated here! "What!" 
he exclaimed, turning quite red in the face and tearing his hair 
out in handf uls. ' ' What ! Dare to offer such an affront to so 
good, so amiable, so excellent a woman — a woman born to com- 
mand, born to be beloved!" 

Mrs. p. Did he? 

Enter Joseph at r. h. 

Joseph. Please, ma'am — and wishes to know if you are dis- 
engaged? 

Mrs. p. I'll come to him. {Exit Joseph r. h.) How shall I 
meet him? how conceal my feelings? Once more, poor little 
fluttering heart, be still! {Aside, and looking «^ Fanny). Poor 
Fanny! I shall be sorry to cut her out; but constancy like Vi- 
cessimus's deserves, and shall have, its reward ! 

\^Exit «^ R. H. 

Fanny. There! I flatter myself I've managed that rather clev- 
erly. I've given tranquillity to Jeremiah, happiness toGeorgina ; 
I've got mamma a husband, and — But stop a bit! who's to get 
one for ine f Oh dear, dear ! I haven't half done yet I 

Enter Mrs. Major very hurriedly at c. 

Mrs. Major. Oh! what shall I do? what shall I do? 

Fanny. Georgina dear, what's the matter? 

Mrs. Major. Oh, Fanny, such an event! I quite forgot to 
tell you that a person — I can't call him a gentleman— has been 
following me about everywhere in the most persevering, the 
most audacious manner, for the last month! 



102 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Fanny, What a contrast to Augustus ! 

Mrs, Major, And at last he has actually had the effrontery to 
write to me. A groom called just now with a letter, and was in 
the act of giving it to Mary, with strict injunctions to deliver it 
to me, and to me only, when my husband suddenly appeared and 
snatched the letter out of his hand. 

Fanny (aside). Something more for me to do! I shall never 
get my work done here ! 

Mrs. Major. He must have read the letter by this time ! Oh, 
what, what will he think of me? But here he comes! and what 
a dreadful temper he looks in ! 

Filter Major hurriedly at c, looking very wild and agitated, a let- 
ter in his hand; comes forward. 

Major {folding his arms and assigning a tragic attitude). So, 
madam; I repeat "So, madam!" You may tremble at the sight 
of your hitherto too confiding but now indignant husband! 

Mrs. Major. But, Jeremiah dear — 

Major. Don't "Jeremiah dear " me! Are you aware, unhap- 
py v/oman, that I might give you in charge to the police? No, 
I don't mean that — that I might insist on a separation? or call 
your ignoble accomplice out and shoot him? — which I would do, 
if I were sure he wouldn't shoot 7ne ! But no ! I prefer to ex- 
pose, to unmask you! 

Enter M.119,. Pelican hastily at c.,folloiDed hy Doctor. 

Mrs. p. What is all this disturbance about? What has hap- 
pened? 

Major. You've arrived just in time! I only wish the en- 
tire universe were assembled in this breakfast - room to hear 
me! 

Mrs. Major (shrugging her shoulders). Pshaw! they could only 
laugh at your absurd suspicions! 

Major. Suspicions? Come, I like that, when I have the proofs 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 103 

— you hear, madam, the proofs of your misconduct ! — this letter, 
madam! this letter! {producing letter and flourishing it). 

Mrs. P. A letter! 

Major. Yes! listen, and shudder! {taking letter out of enve- 
lojjc, loliich he lets fall on stage, then reading in an impressive tone). 
" Star of my life, idol of my heart!" That's pretty well to be- 
gin with! {Beading again.) "Ever since the God of Love first 
presented you to my enraptured orbs!" (Aside.) What does the 
fellow mean by "orbs?" {Reading again.) "I have loved you" 
—point of admiration; here it is, there's no mistake about the 
point of admiration ! (shoiDing letter to Mrs. P. and Doctor). 
But that's not all! {Reads again.) "In order to bask in your 
divine presence, I am prepared to sweep every obstacle from my 
path." There's a sanguinary ruffian ! Of course /'m one of the 
obstacles to be swept away ! 

Mrs. p. And how is the letter signed? 

Major. There is no signature! 

Fanny {aside). That's fortunate ! {picking up the envelope un- 
seen and putting it in her pockety. 

Major {to Mrs. Major). Now, madam, what have you to 
say? 

Mrs. Major. Simply this, that I am more than ever indignant 
at your preposterous and odious suspicions. 

Fanny {suddenly confronting Major). So am I! You ought 
to be ashamed of yourself, Jeremiah ! and so ought you, mamma, 
and so ought everybody! And what's more, I'm determined 
that poor, dear, innocent Georgina shall be no longer unjustly 
accused ! 

Mrs. P. j.^i^^t,gti^^t? 

Major. ) 

Fanny. I dare say I shall be scolded, but I'm used to that ; in 
fact, I rather like it; and after all it was sure to be found out 
sooner or later; in a word — that letter — 

Mrs. P. Well? 



104 AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 

Fanny. "Was intended for me ! 

Mrs. Major {aside to her). Fanny ! 

Fanny {aside to her). Hush ! I'm engaged in a little business 
of my oicn now ! 

Mrs. P For you? 

Fanny. Yes! although 1 particularly told him not to write to 
me. 

Mrs. p. Told him? Told icho? 

Fanny. Augustus! 

Mrs. p. Who's Augustus? 

Fanny. My Augustus, of course ! 

Mrs. Major. I can confirm Fanny's words, having been in 
possession of the whole particulars for the last hour. 

Major. Have "you? Then, perhaps, you can furnish us with 
Augustus's other name — if he's got one {satirically). 

Mrs. Major. Certainly — Noodle. 

Fxi!iNY (very quickly). No — Boodle! 

Doctor. Augustus Boodle? Let me see! of course! I first met 
him at Cheltenham! 

Fanny. So did I. 

Doctor. He was only a lad then, and was going into the 
army — to distinguish himself, as he said. 

Fanny. I can't say whether he did distinguish himself, but I 
know that he very soon distinguished me / 

Doctor. The Boodles of Gloucestershire. There's not a more 
respected family in the county ! Corne, my dear Mrs. Pelican, 
if you'll take my advice, you'll not hesitate in accepting Augus- 
tus Noodle — I mean Boodle — as a son-in-law ! 

Mrs. p. Well, I'll think the matter over, and then, perhaps, I 
may say yes. 

Fanny (coaxingly). Suppose you say yes first, mamma, and 
think the matter over afterwards? 

Mrs. p. {ironically). But, Fanny, what about a certain party of 
"maturer years,'' on whose experience you proposed to rely? 



AFTER A STORM COMES A CALM. 105 

Fanny, Let me ask you, mamma, would it have been dutiful 
in a daughter to deprive her mother of the object of her early 
affection? 

Major. What's that? "Early affection!"—" object!" 

Mrs. P. Yes; there stands the object {'pointing to Doctor). 
In a word, I have been induced to accept the hand of Doctor 
Pretty well, from his many amiable qualities and {aside to Doc- 
tor) his constancy. Here, Vicessimus {holding her hand out to 
him). 

Doctor. Thanks, Cleopatra {taking her hand and kissing it). 

Major {very timidly to Mrs. Major). Georgina, can you for- 
give your Jeremiah? I don't know how I may look^ but you've 
no idea how small I feel. 

Mrs. Major. This once I do ! but remember, this once only. 
There {giving her hand to Major). 

Major. Then, in spite of all petty domestic discords, every- 
body is happy at last. 

Fanny. Which only proves the truth of the old adage, that 
"After a storm comes a calm." 

THE CURTAIN FALLS. 



EXPRESS! 

3^ailtoaj) Homance, in #ne Compartment. 

{Adapted from the French.) 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
A Lady. A Gentleman, A Railway Guard. 

[The action is supposed to take place in a first-class railway-car- 
riage, travelling on a certain line between a certain place and anoth- 
er certain place.] 

Scene. — A plain interior, supposed to represent a compartment in 
a first-class railway -carriage ; door in flat at c. — the entrance 
—four easy-chairs placed two and two 02ij)osite the others, repre- 
senting the seats — on the second chair at l. h. an open news- 
paper. 

The actor playing the part of the gentleman enters at door c. in 
light overcoat, with travelling -hag, hat-box, and railway-rug over his 
arm; he places the hag, hat-ho.v, and rug on first chair, l. h., and 
advances, cap in hand, and, after sundry hows, proceeds to explain 
the scene to the audience. Ladies and gentlemen : The little piece 
we are about to present to you is supposed to take place in a 
first-class compartment of a railway-carriage, travelling express 
from — from— Plymouth to London; shall we say Plymouth to 
London? — very well — Plymouth to London. You will also be 
good enough to see in the humble individual who is now ad- 
dressing you, a deputj^- assistant -deputy -inspector of Govern- 
ment prisons, returning from an official visit to that well-known 
and, judging from the constant stream of applications for ad- 
mission, highly popular convict establishment at — at — Dart- 



107 

mouth; shall we say Dartmouth? — be it so, we'll say Dartmouth! 
Our first idea, in order to impart a greater reality to the situation, 
was to place before you a regular train with locomotive, etc., 
etc., all complete, and for this purpose we applied to a certain 
railway company for the loan of one; but the secretary, in reply, 
said that the only materials he could offer us were cattle-trucks 
and coal-wagons, all the passenger rolling-stock being in requi- 
sition, owing to the unusual number they had smashed up dur- 
ing the year. He certainly offered us tlie use of an engine, but 
at the same time candidly gave us to understand that it was a 
little bit rusty, and wouldn't stand the slightest pressure; he 
further added that if the knob of the steam - whistle should 
happen to knock out the front teeth of any of the audience, 
we were not to blame htm if we had a few compensation actions 
to sustain! — and so on! Altogether the alternative was so dis- 
mal that we decided on sacrificing a flaming line in our play-bill 
about "flashing express," "real steam," "genuine foot-warm- 
ers," which we had composed for the occasion, and to fall back 
upon the best scene that our stage-carpenter and property-man 
could prepare for us. 

We must, therefore, ask you to bring your imaginations to our 
aid, and to fancy you see in that door and in these four easy- 
chairs the interior of a first-class compartment of a railway-car- 
riage, and to imagine further that I have passed the night in one 
of them, and am at the present moment still enjoying a pro- 
found sleep. 

And now, ladies and gentlemen, permit me to enter into my 
part, to seat myself in the snuggest corner I can find, and to re- 
sume my interrupted nap! {makes a profound hoio to audience, 
goes up stage, and seats himself on the first chair, l. h. ; puts on his 
travelling-cap, icraps himself up in the railway-rug, after having 
placed on the second chair, l., his travelling-hag, a raihoay guide, 
and a paper-knife ; he then yaicns once or twice, then falls asleep, 
and after a time snores gently^ Zfiud nok^ of train arriving, with 



108 

steam-engine, railway-bell, and lohistle, as the train is supposed to 
arnve and gradually to stop). 

Guard {heard without). Reading! Change here for Guildford, 
Dorking, Reigate, Redhill! 

Voice (without). Guard, how long do we stop here? 

Guard (without). Ten minutes, sir ! (Cities of "Beading; 
change here," etc., etc., etc., repeated, and gradually diminishing, 
accompanied by noise of slamming doors, etc. ) 

Gentleman (starting from Ms sleep). What's that ? Who 
speaks of stopping ? I wonder what the time is ? {Looks at watch. ) 
Seven o'clock? (Opens door and looks out.) Broad daylight, I de- 
clare {closing door again) ; then I must have slept the best part of 
the night! I don't even remember my travelling companion get- 
ting out; he seems to have forgotten his newspaper {taking up 
paper from chair). Not a very talkative fellow; in fact, he nev- 
er opened his mouth, except to put something into it — princi- 
pally Abernethys and peppermint -drops. By Jove, his Daily 
News is full of crumbs and caraways now!— a regular pantry! 

Guard (again Jieard without). Reading! Ten minutes to stop! 

Gentleman. Ten minutes to stop? Then I may as well get 
out and stretch my legs a bit (rises, jnits railway-rug , guide, and 
travelling-bag on his seat, and goes to door c. ; then calls). Guard, 
whereabouts is the refreshment-bar? 

Guard {without). This way, sir (Gentleman goes out at door 
c. towards r. h. — short pause). 

The Lady looks in at c. and stops; then enters with two small par- 
cels and a bonnet-box. 
Lady. Yes ; all things considered, I decidedly prefer this car- 
riage to the ladies' compartment, where there's only room for 
one, and then what should I do with my packages? Besides, 
ladies are not so remarkably agreeable among themselves; while 
here — (looking about her). Let me see, which corner shall I take? 
I think this will do (indicating the seat which the Gentleman has 



EXPRESS ! 109 

jicst left) ; one's face to the engine, and not so likely to be trou- 
bled by people getting in and out; yes, this will do very well in- 
deed! {during this she removes the Gentleman's effects from first 
chair L. H. to the opposite chair at r.) And after all, provicivjd one 
has a gentleman for a travelling companion, a host of these little 
difficulties soon disappear! {Seats herself on first chair l. h.). 
There! I shall do very nicely here— very nicely indeed! (^Here 
the Gentleman apjiears outside at door c.) Some one's coming! 
one of the opposite sex! I hope a gentleman. Suppose I pretend 
to be asleep? I will! I'll shut my eyes, and then I shall be 
able to judge of his appearance ! {wraps herself up so as to con- 
ceal her face, and pretends to he asleep). 

Gentleman (entering at door and stamping his feet). I feel all 
the better! Thanks to a glass of sherry and half a dozen rapid 
turns up and down the platform, the circulation is re-established; 
so now for another dose of pins and needles. Holloa! what's 
this?— my seat taken, and all my things bundled away anyhow on 
another seat ! Well, of all the cool proceedings— ( To the Lady.) 
I beg pardon, madam, but— Asleep? Kather a sudden attack of 
drowsiness, considering she can't have been here more than five 
minutes! However, she's a lady — at least she looks like one, 
though she is such a cool hand, and I can't be so ungallant as to 
turn her out, especially as she looks so snug and comfortable ! I 
must take another corner! {He seats himself on second chair at l. 
'B.., partly turning his hack to the Lady.) 

Lady {aside and partly uncovering her face). I knew these lit- 
tle difficulties would soon arrange themselves ! {icraps herself up 
as hefore). 

Gentleman {fidgeting ahout in his seat). I was much more 
comfortable in my own seat. There was a nice hollow for one's 
back there ; but here there's a confounded lump that's positive- 
ly painful! I must confess I have found that women in general 
haven't the slightest hesitation in taking advantage of one if they 
possibly can. Here's an instance; just as I had got used to my 



110 ^ EXPRESS ! 

seat, in comes one of the weaker sex and turns me out bag and 
baggage! They know their power, and abuse it: too bad! Now 
(tooking aside at Lady) if my neighbor were but young — and 
pretty into the bargain— but no; catch a woman wrapping her- 
self up like that when she in young {gaping) and pretty! {His 
liead nods once or ticice, and he falls asleep. ) 

Guard {without). Take your seats! Any more going on? 

Lady {cautiously peeping at Gentleman, then uncovering, and 
aside). So it seems I shall have no other travelling companion 
but this gentleman ! {Here loud raihcay -whistle heard, and noise of 
train starting.) We're off. {Looking atGENThEMAi^ again.) I must 
say he appears to be perfectly harmless and inoffensive. (Gen- 
tleman snores. ) What did he say ? {A louder snore from Gentle- 
man). Well, if that's a specimen of his conversation, it isn't like- 
ly to compromise one ! (A nother snore. ) I may as well go to sleep 
myself, and then, perhaps, I may be able to join in the conversation 
too ! ( Wraps herself up, hut this time allows her face to remain un- 
covered; closes her eyes; pause.) 

Gentleman {suddenly waking and shifting Ids p>osition). De- 
cidedly, of all the uncomfortable seats this is the most uncom- 
fortable. 1 should like to know what they stuff their cushions 
with; I feel as if I'd got a quartern loaf at my back! {Taking a 
rapid glance at Lady, then, in a savage tone.) She seems comfort- 
able enough! How absurd— how ridiculous of me not to have 
demanded — not to have in-sis-ted. {Looking again afLhUY.) By 
Jove, she is young! and by no means bad-looking! Bad-look- 
ing! she's pretty — very pretty — excessively pretty! and to think I 
should have actually gone to sleep in her presence ! One never 
knows what one does in one's sleep; luckily, I never snore; that's 
one comfort ! ( Takes off his travelling -cap, arranges his hair, cra- 
vat, etc.) How soundly she sleeps — if she does sleep! {in doubf). 
When one is really asleep— I mean fast asleep^t isn't usual to 
wear a smile on one's face; on the contrary, one's face generally 
gets ugly! I'll be bound that just now I was positively hideous! 



EXPKESS ! Ill 

{He coughs loudly, the Lady moves.) She wakes! {Suddenly and 
loudly.) What a beautiful country! what a lovely green on those 
meadows! {Lady keeps silence.) I'll try again !^ {Still louder.) How 
unusually beautiful are the autumn tints, especially so early in 
the spring! {Pause; aside.) No response? She must have taken 
a sleeping draught ! 

Lady {pretending to tcake). A thousand pardons, sir; did you 
speak? 

Gentleman. I was merely observing what a lovely meadow 
on those greens ! I mean (^another pause) I hear the harvest is 
likely to be a plentiful one, although I'm told that turnips are 
backward; I haven't heard anything about carrots. 

Lady {in an indifferent tone). I beg pardon; were you speak- 
ing to me? {Aside.) Some gentleman farmer, evidently. 

Gentleman {nettled, and imitating her — aside). "Were you- 
speaking to me?" I rather think I was speaking to her! Holloa! 
she's off to sleep again! No one can call her particularly wide- 
awake. Well, since she's off into land of dreams again, I don't 
see why I shouldn't indulge in a cigarette {takes out some cigarette 
papers, tobacco pouch, spreads them on his knees and proc4ieds to 
make a cigarette; then stops). Stop, though! I can't smoke with- 
out first asking her permission ; of course not ! {Aloud, and cough- 
ing. ) Ahem ! ( Watching her.) Sound as a top ! Try again ! ( Cough- 
ing louder. ) Ahem ! ( The Lady opens her eyes and moves impatient- 
ly—aside.) That did it! 

Gentleman {apologetically). My cough is rather troublesome, 
ma'am. 

Lady. I find it so— very ! 

Gentleman {aside). Well! that's about the rudest thing I've 
heard for some time! {Aloud.) I was about to ask you whether 
you object to the smell of tobacco? 

Lady. Oh, not at all, sir! 

Gentleman. Thank you! {proceeds to make his cigarette, and 
about to light it). 
8 



112 EXPRESS ! 

Lady. I mean, not till it's lighted ! 

Gentleman. Oh, I see; and then you do? 

Lady. Very much, indeed ! 

Gentleman. Even when you are asleep? {in an insinuating 
tone). 

Lady {slowly and decisively). Whether I am awake or asleep, 
sir! 

Gentleman {aside). Now that's what I call selfish— just as if 
the smoke could get up her nose when her eyes are shut! {jmt- 
ting away his smoking apparatus. Aside). I must say I have met 
more agreeable young ladies — very much more agreeable — in fact, 
I may say I never remember meeting one less agreeable. Well, 
I sha'n't disturb the "Sleeping Beauty " again in a hurry. Now 
for another nap ! {sulkily crams siTioking apparatus into his pocket, 
draws his cap mry much over his head, stands up, folds himself up 
in his rug, and then flounces down on his seat agoAn^ partially turn- 
ing his back to the Lady). 

Lady, {sloicly turning her head and taking a glance at Gen- 
tleman). Well, I must confess he put away his smoking appa- 
ratus with a very good grace! {Sees newspaper.) Some one has 
left a newspaper! {Taking newspaper and reading.) Um, um! 
Plymouth Gazette. "Foreign News, "" Paris Fashions, " "Ear- 
ly Strawberries. " What's this ? ' ' Escape of a convict. We learn 
that Benjamin Burkshaw, a criminal of the most desperate char- 
acter, effected his escape from Dartmoor prison yesterday. The 
following is his description: Age, not exactly known; eyes, noth- 
ing peculiar; wears a long black beard — has probably cut it off; 
walks slightly lame with one leg, uncertain which ; supposed to 
have directed his steps towards London, or in some other direc- 
tion." Dear me! it is just possible he may be in this very train! 
{looking aside at the Gentleman, then reading again). "Middle 
height" {looking again at Gentleman); "inclined to be stout" 
{another look at Gentleman); he's so rolled up in his rug one 
can't judge! {Reads again.) " Slightly bald, with a scar on left 



EXPRESS ! 113 

side of forehead " {here the Gentleman in his sleep hastily pulls 
his travelling-cap over his forehead; the Lady gives a sudden start, 
and recoils as far as possible from the Gentleman). How very 
suddenly he pulled his cap over his forehead — and the left side 
of it too ! Pshaw ! how foolish, how absurd of me ! {Reads paper 
again, and then closes her eyes once more.) 

Gentleman {roudng himself). It's no use! I can't get a wink 
of sleep, except by fits and starts— principally starts ! {Looking 
at Lady.) Still asleep ! and no book to read except this "Illus- 
trated Guide through England and Wales." However, that's 
better than " Bradshaw." {During above he has taken a book out 
of his bag, and cuts the leaves with a paper-knife; turns over leaves.) 
What's this? {Reads.) ' ' Maidenhead. It was in the neighborhood 
of this picturesque town that the famous Dick Turpin — " {Here 
the Lady and Gentleman are suddenly thrown forward.) 

Lady {alarmed). What a shock! Has anything happened? 

Gentleman {indifferently). Nothing of consequence ! merely 
the train passing over something — or somebody! 

Lady {aside). Rather an unfeeling remark! {Aloud.) Can 
you tell me where we are, sir? I am quite a stranger to this 
line. 

Gentleman. We should be near Slough. You may not be 
aware, madam, that it was here that — {taking a peep aside at his 
book) — "that the famous Dick Turpin" — you've heard of Dick 
Turpin, of course — the celebrated highwayman ? (Lady shakes 
her head). Well, it was hefe that he was in the habit of spend- 
ing his leisure hours — I mean when he'd nothing better to do — 
in — in {taking another peep at book) — "in planting potatoes!" — 
Poor Dick ! my great-grandfather saw him hanged ! 

Lady {shocked). Hanged? 

Gentleman. Yes — I forget exactly what for — something 
about putting an old lady on the kitchen fire ! 

Lady {indignantly). Surely, never was a fate more richly de- 
served! 



114 EXPRESS ! 

Gentleman. On the contrary, she was quite a respectable 
sort of old body ! 

Lady {aloud, and in a satirical tone). Thanks, sir, for your 
kind and interesting information ! 

Gentleman iinodestly). Don't mention it, I beg! 

Lady (aside). A newspaper correspondent, perhaps! I prefer 
that to a farmer! 

Gentleman {after a short pause). I find the sun rather too 
warm on this side of the carriage, madam — will it inconvenience 
you if I take this seat? {indicating first chair at r.). 

Lady. Not in the least! Indeed, I should have the less right 
to object, as I am afraid I have appropriated yours; and by far 
the more comfortable one, I suspect ! 

Gentleman. You simply foresaw that I should offer it to 
you, madam ! 

Lady. Oh, m:\ ipowing). 

Gentleman. Oh, madam! {poicing ; he removes things from 
where the Lady had placed them, and seats himself opposite to her). 

Lady {aside). Really a very pleasant, agreeable fellow ! 

Gentleman {aside). Her full face is even better than her pro- 
file! {Aloud, and in a sentimental tone.) Ah, madam ! would it 
were in my power to prolong this pleasant journey — this delight- 
ful tete-a-tete ! 

Lady {with dignity). Sir! 

Gentleman {aside). That's no gu! \Aloud.) I mean, madam, 
that one seems to travel too fast nowadays ! (Lady expresses sur- 
prise.) In fact, we're all too fast! 

Lady {severely). Sir! 

Gentleman {aside). Thafs no go ! {Aloud.) We've only to 
contrast the present with the time when the wife of one of our 
ancient kings traversed the whole of England by easy stages of 
five miles a day! 

Lady. Of whom do you speak? 

Gentleman. Of— of — {Aside.) Hang me if I know! {Aloud.) 



EXPRESS ! 115 

Of Tabitha — I mean Elgitha,the wife of— Edmund — Sobersides — 
I should say Ironsides ! But without going quite so far back, 
madam, I confess I often regret the days of those heavy old stage- 
coaches called "High-flyers," "Eclipses," and "Rockets." 

Lady {smiling). Because they went so slowly? 

Gentleman. Precisely. Still, it had its advantages — it gave 
one an opportunity to make the acquaintance of one's travelling 
companions— to establish a friendly feeling — perhaps one of a 
more tender nature ! {with a tender look at the Lady). 

Lady {xmth a stare of astonishment). Sir! 

Gentleman {aside). It's no use. I won't try any more ! {Aloud, 
and in a more colloquial tone.) Besides, in a stage-coach there was 
always the chance of one of those little adventures that so often 
happened on the road ! 

Lady. You mean attacks by highwaymen, such as your friend 
Mr. — Turpin — who had a weakness for putting respectable old 
ladies on the kitchen tire? {smiling satirically — then, changing her 
tone). I remember myself a certain event which happened some 
five or six years ago when we were travelling. 

Gentleman. We? You and your pa and ma, probably? 

Lady. My husband and I ! 

Gentleman. Husband ? 5^ou are married, ma'am ! actually, 
positively married? 

Lady. Alas, sir! {sighing). 

Gentleman {aside). I see ! an unhappy union ! — an ill-assorted 
match — poor soul! {Aloud.) Ah, madam, you are not the only 
one of your too confiding sex who have found marriage a bed 
of roses— I mean, of nettles, instead of one of nettles — I mean 
roses 1 

Lady. But, sir— you mistake — alas, sir, I am a widow! 

Gentleman. A widow? I'm delighted to hear it! No, I'm 
not! of course not! I deeply sympathize with you — as I always 
do with widows — I know what it is myself. But you mustn't 
give way — you'll get used to it in time— like the eels — no, not 



116 EXPRESS ! 

like the eels — but you were about to mention some adventure 
which happened to you while travelling w4th — the late lamented. 
{Noise heard of train graduaUy stopping — engine, raikcay-hell, wlds- 
tle, etc.) 

Voice {o2itside, gradually approaching). ' ' Slough ! Slough ! 
change for Windsor; all tickets ready." 

Gentleman {angrily). All tickets ready! these railway com- 
panies are perfectly absurd, with their mania for examining tick- 
ets! {feeling in Ms pockef). 

Lady {smiling). Another advantage of the good old coaching 
days! 

Gentleman. Yes, quite so! {feeling again in Ms pockets, one 
after the other'). Ah! here it is— no, it isn't — how very odd; now 
I've got it — no, I haven't ! {diving in his p^ockets again). 

Lady, I'm afraid you've lost your ticket, sir. 

Gentleman. Oh no ! I haven't lost it — only I can't find it ! 

Lady. You may have dropped it? {looking about on floor). 

Gentleman. Pray don't trouble yourself; I shall be sure to 
find it — {aside) as soon as I've paid for another! {Aloud.) I'll just 
speak to the station-master. Excuse me a moment ? (Lady hows, 
Gentleman exit at c, and disappears toicardsia. h.) 

Lady. Poor fellow! no wonder he dislikes railways if he's in 
the habit of losing his ticket every time he travels! 

GuABD appears at door c. 

Guard {to Lady). Ticket, please, ma'am? {Takes ticket, and re- 
turns it to Lady.) Thank you, ma'am. {Seeing the Gentleman's 
bag, etc., on seat.) These things belong to you, ma'am? 

Lady. Oh no ! ' 

Guard. Has any one left this carriage? 

Lady. Yes ! a gentleman — not a minute ago. 

Guard {sulkily). How can I examine people's tickets when 
they get out at every station? 

Lady. He fancies he has lost his ticket. 



EXPRESS ! 117 

Guard {suspiciously). Lost his ticket? — what a pity! {Aside.) 
That's an old dodge! {Aloud.) Is the gentleman one of your 
party, ma'am? 

Lady. Oh dear no! only so far as we are journeying in the 
same compartment. 

Guard {examining the Gentleman's hag). No name on his 
travelling-bag— that's queer! We're expected to keep both eyes 
open on this line, ma'am— only yesterday we nabbed a desperate 
bank forger at this very station; and we're on the lookout for an 
escaped convict to-day! 

Lady {aside). An escaped convict ? that dreadful Mr. Burkshaw, 
no doubt? Not a very cheerful subject of conversation — I'm 
really getting quite nervous ! {collecting her packages and rising). 

Guard. Going to get out, ma'am? 

Lady. Yes, I should prefer the ladies' compartment. 

Guard. No room there, ma'am ; eight of 'em already, besides 
babies ! 

Lady. I may get into another carriage, I presume? 

Guard. Certainly, ma'am. Good-day, ma'am {goes out at door). 

Lady. Stop ! stop ! Help me out ! Guard ! guard ! {calling). 

Guard {outside). Can't stop now, ma'am. Train just going on. 

Lady. This is really too bad ! Can't even change carriages on 
this line, which seems to be especially patronized by the crimi- 
nal classes! But pshaw! I'm alarming myself unnecessarily. 
Is it likely that this gentleman— and *he is a gentleman— who 
seems to be on intimate terms with the wife of Edmund Iron- 
sides — can possibly have any connection with — How absurd of 
me! I really ought to be ashamed of myself. {Seeing tJie paper- 
knife lohich the Gentleman has left on seat. ) What a strange-look- 
ing paper-knife — quite a formidable weapon! Is it a paper- 
knife ? it looks more like a stiletto ! ( Taking up paper-knife very 
carefully between her finger and thumb, and then quickly dropping it 
again). Such an instrument as that was never made to cut leaves ! 
It looks much adapted to— {Shuddering. ) How ridiculous of me ! 



118 EXPRESS ! 

My silly fears are running away with me again. Ha, ha, hal 
{forcing a lavgh). 
Guard {without). Take your seats! 

Gentleman hurries in at c. The Lady suddenly stops laughing, 
and gets as far as she can into her corner. 

Gentleman. I've found my ticket! I knew I should the mo- 
ment I bought another. {Takes his seat. To the Lady). Where do 
you suppose it was?— you'll never guess. In my purse, where 
I always put my tickets! Ha, ha, ha! 

Lady {aside). He had a ticket, then ? 

Gentleman. It is very kind of you to interest yourself in the 
misfortunes of a stranger {boicing). 

Lady. Is it not natural? 

Gentleman. It seems to be so to you, madam {boicing again 
and moving a little toicards Lady, who retreats). 

Lady {aside). If I could only induce him to remove his travel- 
ling-cap—not that I should discover the slightest scar on Jiis 
forehead— I should then be completely reassured. {Suddenly.) 
Pardon me— is not that a friend of yours bowing to you on the 
other platform? {indicating the audience). 

Gentleman. Bowing to me? where? {putting his hand to his 
cap). 

Lady {pointing). There! {Aside.) Now for it! 

Gentleman {lowering his hand again without removing his 
cap). No, ma'am, I don't know him; besides, he's not bowing 
to me. 

Lady (aside). That's a failure ! 

Gentleman. Holloa! Somebody's been moving my things! 

Lady. Yes, the guard! — he seemed curious — I might say 
anxious— to ascertain if your name was on your travelling-bag! 

Gentleman. Very inquisitive of him I Why should I make 
my name public property?— there may be reasons why I should 
,^tf — pressing reasons! You can understand that, madam? 



EXPRESS 1 119 

Lady. Y — es ! I'm afraid I can — I mean, of course I can ! 

Gentleman, But, as I was saying, the interest you have so 
kindly taken in me — a perfect stranger — 

Lady {mry quickly). Not at all, sir; on the contrary! No— 
that is — 

Gentleman. Permit me to continue. That interest, I repeat, 
comes naturally to you, blessed, as I'm sure you are, with so 
sweet, so gentle, so affectionate a disposition. 

Lady {very quickly). Quite the reverse, I assure you, sir— I've 
a dreadful temper! 

Gentleman. Again: that charming hand is not less charac- 
teristic; it requires but one glance at those delicately tapered 
fingers — {About to take her hand; Lady hastily withdraics it.) 

Lady {aside). I do believe the man's going to make love to 
me! 

Gentleman. But stay: I see one line here that is singularly 
prominent; permit me {taking Lady's hami). 

Lady (aside). I'm quite at his mercy! Not the slightest use 
my screaming! 

Gentleman {looking at her hand). Yes, a very sudden inter- 
section, threatening, I fear, some personal danger. 

Lady {alarmed). Yes, very likely! {Aside.) How intently he 
fixes his eyes on my diamond ring ! 

Gentleman. But were you not saying that you had once been 
exposed to some peril in travelling? 

Lady, Yes ; but I was not alone then. 

Gentleman. The "late lamented," I presume? 

Lady. Yes; we were attacked by robbers in crossing the 
Pyrenees ! ( Very quickly. ) Not that I particularly object to rob- 
bers! In fact, I rather like them! {Aside.) I may as well try 
what a little flattery will do. 

Gentleman {still holding her hand). You have a remarkably 
fine diamond here, madam ! 

Lady. Yes, a very good imitation, isn't it? 



120 EXPRESS ! 

Gentleman. Excuse me. I cannot mistake a diamond — no, 
no; I've had too many pass through my hands to do that! 

Lady {aside). I'm afraid Jie has! 

Gentleman. And yet there's a flaw in it — if you'll allow me, 
I'll point it out to you. {Looking about, then suddenly taking up 
the paper-knife; the Lady screams.) I'm afraid I alarmed yo\i\ 

Lady {trying to he calm). Oh dear no ! and if you've quite done 
examining my hand — 

Gentleman. Quite, madam! {releasing her hand). 

Lady. And you detect no further threatening of — personal 
danger? 

Gentleman. None whatever ! 

Lady. Then you are a believer in spiritualism and phrenol- 
ogy, and all that sort of thing? 

Gentleman. Certainly I am ! May I ask, madam, if you have 
ever examined the head of a criminal? 

Lady {shocked). Never, sir! 

Gentleman. Perhaps you have never even been brought into 
personal contact with one? 

Lady. Certainly not, sir; though I'm sure I should feel the 
greatest pity for him — I should, indeed! (in a commiserating 
tone). 

Gentleman. Understand me; I don't allude to the milder 
class of criminals, such as thieves, robbers, forgers, burglars, and 
such like; but one of those desperate fellows who — who — in 
fact, who stick at nothing ! By-the-bye, I have a collection here 
of photographs of some of our most notorious criminals, which 
I think would interest you. 

Lady {shuddering). Yes — intensely! 

Gentleman {opening his travelling -hag). Ah ! {producing a re- 
volver) there's rather a curious story connected with this re- 
volver! 

Lady {alarmed, and trying to look unconcerned). Indeed? 

Gentleman. I never travel without one — every chamber 



EXPRESS ! 121 

loaded and ready for use, so that I have six lives at my disposal 
— a very comfortable feeling to have! Don't you think so? 

Lady. Yes, very much so, indeed ! 

Gentleman. Here are the photographs {producing packet) \ 
here is one of them {about to shoio a portrait). No, I make a 
mistake ; this is one of myself. 

Lady {aghast). Yours? 

Gentleman (smiling). Yes! this is the one! {presenting a sec- 
ond portrait). You'll observe a remarkable protuberance of 
this part of the skull {pointing to it) ; that's the organ of destruc- 
tiveness. I have it myself, only not quite so strongly developed 1 
(touching his head); don't you perceive it? 

Lady. Yes — I — see ! But I confess I cannot understand how 
you happen to be in possession of these remarkably Interesting — 
works of art? 

Gentleman (smiling). A very simple matter — my occupation 
necessitates my associating with this particular class of "her 
Majesty's subjects " — as I happen to be — 

Lady (quickly). Hush ! I know ! You need not tell me ! 

Gentleman {anxiously). What is the matter? You are posi- 
tively trembling — with cold, no doubt! Allow me to wrap this 
rug round you. 

Lady. No, no! 

Gentleman. Nay, I insist! {placing his rug round Lady's 
feet). 

Lady. But you will feel the want of it yourself, especially as 
it seems you have passed the night in the train! 

Gentleman. Exactly! Six hours ago I was in Dartmoor 
Prison 1 

Lady. Dartmoor! (Aside.) He confesses it! 

Gentleman (smiling). Not a very attractive residence. I 
would gladly have left it before, but, unfortunately, I was de- 
tained ! 

Lady. Detained! 



122 EXPRESS ! 

Gentleman {smiling). I may say chained to it — by my con- 
founded profession ! 

Lady {aside). He calls it a 2'>f'ofession ! 

Gentleman. There's no saying how long the Home Secre- 
tary might have kept me there; but I couldn't stand it any 
longer, so I managed to make my escape, and now I'm free 
once more! 

JjAjyY {suddenly starting up with a scream). Stop, sir! Don't 
say any more! Have pity on me, for mercy's sake! {falling on 
Iwr knees and clasping her hands). 

Gentleman {astounded). My dear madam — 

IjADY {hysterically). I know who you are; I know all about 
the scar on your forehead ! But I won't betray you — I won't, in- 
deed 1 Here, take my purse ! — take my watch ! {thrusting the 
articles into the Gentleman's hands) — all I have, good Mr. Burk- 
shaw! — but spare my life! 

Gentleman. Your life? Mr. Burkshaw? What — what do 
you mean? 

Lady. Mercy! mercy! 

Gentleman {seriously). My dear madam ! Pray compose your- 
self! You have evidently fallen into some strange error; in a 
word, I happen to be — 

Lady. Yes, yes! I know who you happen to be! Take my 
advice and jump out of the train! 

Gentleman {astonished). Jump out of the train? Madam, 
your strange conduct compels me to be serious ! In a word, I 
have the honor to be a Government inspector of prisons ! 

Lady. Eh? What? You— an inspector of prisons? 

Gentleman. Yes, madam {taking off his cap and bowing to 
Lady). 

Lady {eagerly looking at Gentleman's forehead). And— you 
haven't got a scar on your forehead? Oh, sir! if you only knew 
how delighted I am that you haven't got a scar on your fore- 
head! 



EXPRESS ! 123 

Gentleman (beioildered). A scar on my forehead? {feeling his 
forehead). But may I ask what has suggested to you all these 
notions about thieves and robbers? 

Lady. Why, you've been talking about nothing else for the 
last quarter of an hour! 

Gentleman {Hrailing). 1 beg your pardon. You certainly first 
began the conversation about these— gentlemen. 

Lady. Because you said that you associated with them. 

Gentleman. Naturally, as an inspector of prisons. 

Lady. Then those portraits — in 3'our possession? 

Gentleman. Were taken merely to forward the ends of 
justice ! 

Lady (with a sigh of relief). I understand it all ! I can laugh 
at my folly now, which entirely arose from this silly newspaper 
paragraph — the sole cause of all my absurd terror. 

Gentleman. What newspaper paragraph? 

Lady. Read this, sir {giving Mm newspaper). 

Gentleman (looking at paper, and then giving way to a loud 
laugh). Ha, ha, ha! Why, my dear madam, this is quite an old 
story! Our interesting friend, Mr. Burkshaw, happened to be 
shot in attempting his escape from Dartmoor moi'e than twelve 
months ago ! {Looking at date of newspaper. ) Of course, this paper 
is a year old— December, 1884! 

Lady. So it is! Oh, sir! what must you think of me? 

Gentleman {in a tender tone). May I tell you? That you are 
the most charming travelling companion — {Here noise of train 
stopping, engine, railioay -whistle, etc., heard.) 

Voice (outside). Paddington! Paddington! (Lady and Gen- 
tleman both rise.) 

Gentleman {gallantly). I am staying some time in London, 
madam. Will you permit me to call upon you, if only to re- 
move from your mind any lingering doubt as to my perfect 
identity? 

Lady. With pleasure, sir! (Suddenly, and in a very gracious 



124 EXPRESS ! 

tone.) Oh, sir! how very good of you to be a Government in- 
spector of prisons! {Jiolding out Jier hand to Gentleman, icho 
takes it and raises it to Ms lips). 

Voice {again Jieard). Paddington! {The Gentleman and 
Lady gather their packages and how to each other as the curtain 

FALLS.) 



TAKEN FEOM THE FRENCH. 

^11 ©ri'ijfnal CComctJictta, fii ®ne ^ct. 



DRAMATIS PERSONvE. 

Sir Felix Fritterlt, | Colonel Coset. 

Arthur Vallance. I Lady Fritterly. 

Myrtle Vane. 

Scene.— Sir Felix Fi-itterly's Country-liouse, 

A handsomely furnished apartment. Bay-icindoiD {practicable) 
with curtains at r. u. e., conservatory c, doors r. and l., couch 
at R. c. , chairs, piano, etc. Colonel discovered lying on couch, 
his handkerchief over his head — Arthur Vallance in morn- 
ing costume. 

Arth. (looking at Colonel). Still asleep! And yet I must 
awake him (striking a very loud chord on the piano). 

Col. (jndling handkerchief off his head and sitting bolt upright 
on couch). Come in! (^S'mw/y Arthur.) Oh, it's you? For good- 
ness' sake, Arthur, don't make such an infernal noise ! Do you 
want to dislocate that implement of torture? 

Arth. Don't you like it, uncle? I thought you w^ere fond of 
music ! 

Col. You don't call that music, do you? (getting up from 
couch). I accept your friend Fritterly's invitation to his country- 
house for a few weeks' quiet — 

Arth. Well, you've got it, haven't you? 

Col. Don't interrupt me (snappishly). 

Arth. I was merely anticipating — 



126 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

Col. Who the deuce wants you to anticipate! Take things 
as I do, and wait till they come round! My idea of a quiet life 
is to get up at eleven, when the world has been thoroughly aired 
by that beneficent warming-pan, the sun; next, breakfast at 
twelve— twelve's a lovely hour for breakfast — have the morn- 
ing papers all to yourself, and escape being dragged round the 
grounds like the rest of the visitors — to see the early peas, and 
the asparagus beds, and spring onions! 

Arth. Ha! ha! Well, what next? 

Col, Breakfast over, a quiet nap; a bit of lunch at three; a 
heavenly slumber till dinner-time at seven; a cup of coffee, a 
eigar, and to bed at ten ! That's my idea of a rational, peaceful 
existence! 

Arth. You'd better by half shoulder your gun and have a 
pop at the partridges ! 

Col. Thankee — I never went out with a gun but once in my 
life, and then I shot a couple of dogs and a game-keeper; so I 
gave it up; for if I'd gone on as I began, dogs and game-keep- 
ers would have been at a premium long before this! 

Arth. Ah! it was a bad business for you, uncle, that you 
didn't take a wife. 

Col. It would have been a precious deal worse for my wife if 
I had! 

Arth. Well, every one to his taste. What you call existence 
/call a state of positive to^pidit3^ It may suit you; but at my 
age a man hungers and thirsts after a little more excitement. 

CoL. Then why the deuce don't you take it? Go out fishing 
— in the duck-pond— or go and see the cows milked, or the pigs 
fed ; or, better still, here's no end of excitement for you under 
your very nose. 

Arth. Where? 

CoL. At that window {pointing to window) ; gardener always at 
work rolling the lawn, or watering the flowers, or picking up 
worms, or killing slugs, and without the slightest fatigue for 



TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 127 

you; all you have to do is to settle yourself down at the win- 
dow— 

Arth. Settle down, eh? My dear uncle, that's the very thing 
I want to do! In a word, Myrtle Yane — Lady Fritterly's sis- 
ter — 

Col. Ugh! The old story over again, eh? Lady Fritterly's 
sister is a niceish sort of girl — 

Arth. (indignantly). Niceish sort of girl ! She's an angel ! 

Col. Rubbish ! Besides, as I said before, you're too young to 
marry yet; wait another ten or fifteen years, and then begin to 
look about you. You haven't popped to her, have you? 

Arth. Popped? 

CoL. Proposed! 

Arth. No! 

Col. Then how do you know she'd have you? 

Arth. Of course I don't Tctiow; but I think she miglit. 

CoL. There's a conceited young puppy for you ! 

Arth. (coaxingly). Especially if you'll encourage my atten- 
tions — like my dear, kind old uncle ! 

CoL. Which your "dear, kind old uncle " doesn't intend to do. 

Arth. You don't, eh? Yery well, then listen to me! I shall 
do something desperate ! 

CoL. Wait till I get out of the room ! {Feeling his pulse.) I 
thought as much ! Going like a windmill in a gale of wind ! This 
excitement's too much for me, I must take a sedative ! {takes pill- 
box out of his pocket; opens it, and tosses two pills into his mouth 
one after the other'). And now, young fellow, listen to me. If 
you are so anxious to settle, as you call it, better begin with your 
bootmaker! In a word, you don't marry yet with my consent. 
Marry without it, and I leave every shilling I've got to— to the 
Society for the Suppression of Yirtue — I mean the Propagation 
of Yice — I don't know what I'm talking about! {swalloios tico 
more pills, and hurries out at r,, slamming door violently after 
fdm). 



128 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

Arth. Just as easy to argue him out of his prejudices as it 
would be to make a Quaker kick his mother's — Oh ! here comes 
Myrtle ! What a contrast ! — he all apathy — she all impetuosity ! 
Of course I shall have to give her an account of my morning's 
employment, as usual, which consists of breakfast— three slices 
of toast, a rasher of bacon, a couple of eggs, and a cup of coffee! 
and not a bad morning's work, either ! 

Enter Myrtle at c. in morning dress — a large garden Tiat and 
gloves. 

Myrt. Good-morning, Mr. Vallance ! has nature no attractions 
for you, that you remain in-doors such a lovely day as this? Fol- 
lowing your uncle's example, as usual, I presume? 

Arth. On the contrary, I've been very hard at work, I assure 
you, trying to reduce my uncle's bump of obstinacy. 

Myrt. But in vain? — the protuberance defied your efforts. 
And has that been your entire morning's work? 

Arth. Physically, yes! Mentally, no! 

Myrt. The j^^iysical we'll dismiss; the mental consisting of — 
reading the newspaper, eh? {smiling). 

Arth. What can a man do such weather as this? It's too hot 
to walk, too early for billiards — only fit for smoking. By-the- 
bye, I did manage to get as far as the stables, where I had a cigar. 

Myrt. And this is the new leaf you promised me you would 
turn over — a tobacco-leaf! You are sadly deficient in energy, 
Mr. Vallance. 

Arth. I confess it. But brought up as I was from my earliest 
infancy under my uncle — 

Myrt. {smiling). Under your uncle? 

Arth. Yes — (suddenly) — no, of course not. I mean under his 
supervision— hovT can I be otherwise than I am? He resents the 
slightest approach to activity as a slur on himself; and the high- 
est compliment you can pay him is to yawn in his face {checking 
Qb yawn with difficulty'). 



TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 129 

Myrt. I beg pardon — I'm afraid I'm in the way. 

Arth. Not at all! But why are you in such a hurry lo go? 

Myrt. To allow you more leisure for {imitating Arthur's 
yawn) — you know ! 

Arth. Oh, Myrtle — do you object to my calling you Myrtle? 

Myrt. You should have asked that question before you did. 

Arth. If my tongue has been silent, surely my eyes must 
have spoken for me? 

Myrt. {stiffly). Mr. Vallance, you forget yourself! 

Arth. Because I was thinking of you {tenderly). 

Myrt. {aside). This is getting too serious. {Aloud.) But you 
really must excuse me. I have my plants to attend to — a favor- 
ite creeper especially that requires nailing up. 

Arth. Let me go with you. I'll make myself so useful — 
you'll see how hard I'll work. I'll hold the ladder for you, and 
hand you up the hammer and tin-tacks! 

Myrt. What an exertion ! And all for me! Ha! ha! ha! 

Arth. {annoyed). I see how it is, madam ; you've no feeling, 
or you wouldn't treat me so cruelly, so capriciously ! If you had 
the slightest particle of regard for me, you'd let me hand you up 
the hammer and tin-tacks ! 

Myrt. You accuse me of caprice ! you, who never knew what 
it is to be in earnest ! 

Arth. I am so now, I assure you. 

Myrt. Then listen to me, Arthur Vallance. Let me see that 
you possess some energy, some enthusiasm, some strength of 
will, then I may, perhaps, give you a better answer. Good-morn- 
ing. [^Qoes out at c. towards r. 

Arth. {calling after). Stop, Myrtle! Do let me come and 
hand you up the hammer and tin-tacks! So! I'm to do some- 
thing energetic, am I? Drown myself in the duck-pond? Yes! 
—no. I have it! I'll say good-by to Fritterly, and cut this 
place at once ! And then. Miss Vane, perhaps you'll be sorry — 
perhaps you'll regret that you didn't let me hand you up the 



130 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

hammer and tin-tacks! Let me see, there's an express to town 
at three. {Looking at Ms watch.) I can catch that. My traps can 
follow {hurrying up towards door L. h., and coming into collision 
with Sir Felix, who enters at the same time). 

Sir F. Holloa, old fellow, where the deuce are you off to in 
such a hurry ? 

Arth. Don't ask me — I'm going out of my mind ! 

Sir F. The deuce you are ! Well, if I may judge by appear- 
ances, it won't take you very long to get to the end of that jour- 
ney! Confound it, man, will you explain? 

Arth. Well, you know the feelings I entertain towards Miss 
Vane? 

SirF. Myrtle? Yes. 

Arth. Well, you'll hardly believe it; but when I proposed to 
her just now — 

Sir F. You proposed to her? {astonished). 

Arth. Yes — to hand her up the hammer and tin-tacks — 

Sir F. {astonished). Hammer and tin-tacks? What the deuce 
are you talking about? 

Arth. {helplessly). I'm sure I don't know — yes, I do. She 
said that when I showed a little energy— a little enthusiasm — a 
little something else, she'd perhaps give me a better answer. 

SirF. A better answer ! What on earth can that mean? 

Arth. I can't tell! {Suddenly.) Yes, I can, of course! It can 
only mean one thing {enthusiastically) — that she will let me hand 
her up the hammer — 

Sir F. {sJiouting). Confound it, drop that hammer! You've 
been hammering that hammer into my ears for the last ten min- 
utes! Now! {turning Vallance round to him face to face) speak 
like a man of sense — if you've got any left in you ! 

Arth. Well, then, I ventured to speak to my uncle — 

SirF. Old Cosey? 

Arth. Yes, old Cosey — about Myrtle, and he coolly told me I 
mustn't think of getting married for the next ten or fifteen years I 



TAKEN FliOM THE FRENCH. 131 

SmF. Come, I like that! 

Arth. Do you? It's more than I do — unless, he said, he saw 
some urgent necessity for it; but that if I married without his 
consent he'd disinherit me. 

Sir F. Is that all? 

Arth. All ! It strikes me as being quite enough. No, it isn't 
all — it's only half, for Myrtle — 

Sir F. {cutting him shoH). Never mind Myrtle ; I know all 
about her. She thinks you a bit of a milksop— s — so do I ; that 
you've no energy — not an atom! no will of your own — never 
had! and that in order to reinstate yourself in her good opinion 
you must do something desperate! So you shall! Now what 
do you mean to do ? 

Arth. Show a proper spirit, and — run away! 

Sir F. Run away! Certainly not — fling yourself into my 
arms and I'll pull you through ! So cheer up ! 

Arth. It's very easy to say "cheer up " to a fellow who feels 
himself between two stools, with the certainty of coming down 
a cropper! 

Sir F. But what's the use of giving you advice? You'd nev- 
er follow it ! You haven't the pluck to do anything desperate ! 

Arth. I told uncle I would! But I'm not going to make 
away with myself merely to prove that I'm a man of my word! 

Sir F. Pshaw ! Now let's understand each other. Myrtle in- 
sists on your giving her a convincing proof of energy — pluck — 
determination — and all that sort of thing! You're not limited 
as to the direction they may take? 

Arth. Not at all! 

Sir F. Good — and your uncle refuses his consent to your 
marriage unless he sees some urgent necessity for it? 

Arth. Exactly! 

Sir F. Then the same medicine will do for both ! Old Cosey 
has a great regard for propriety and morality, and all that sort 
of thing — hasn't he? 



132 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

Arth. Intense! 

Sir F. Then we'll give him such a shock on that score, he'll 
think that his opposition to your wishes has driven you frantic 
with despair ! 

Arth. But Myrtle? 

Sir F. Has only to imagine there's a chance of your turning 
out a "naughty, good-for-nothing reprobate," and she'll be only 
too glad to reclaim her lost sheep at once! 

Arth. What then? 

Sir F. Oh, then we must borrow a wrinkle from the French ! 
As your uncle won't hear of your taking a wife of your own, 
take somebody else's! — no matter whose. Take mine; she's the 
handiest ! 

Arth. Don't be absurd ! 

Sir F. I'm perfectly serious! All your uncle wants is to 
snooze away his existence. We must wake the old boy up ! ! 

Arth. How? 

Sir F. By an elopement! ! A -pretended one, of course, which 
you shall propose to my wife, and Tie shall overhear! 

Arth. /propose an elopement to Lady Fritterly? She'll be 
indignant! 

Sir F. How do you know that? She may feel flattered ! At 
any rate I'll take all the responsibility ! — you may be as fascinat- 
ing as you choose ! Ha ! ha ! 

Arth. But, man alive, I'm not in the habit of running away 
with other people's wives! I shouldn't know how to begin. 
Something in this style? — "Please, ma'am, will you run away 
with me?" 

Sir F. Not half tender enough! {Clasping his hands and with 
exaggerated passion.) "Loveliest of women" — then down on 
your knee — it don't matter which — both if you like. Then ex- 
claim, "My bosom's torn with conflicting emotions " — " my 
brain is in a whirlwind of agony and despair " — tearing your 
hair out by handfuls all the time. Don't forget t7iat/ 



TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 133 

Arth. Stop! Don't be in such a confounded hurry! Let me 
see! "Loveliest of women," one! (counting on his fingers) — 
"conflicting emotions," two! — "agony," three! — "despair," 
four! Can't you make it five — one for each finger? 

Sir F. Five — the elopement! — there you nuist come out a lit- 
tle stronger — {declaiming in exaggerated tone) — "Let us fly, loved 
one! — horses are in readiness to bear us to the nearest station, 
where the flashing express shall whirl us to— to — " anywhere 
you like — Madagascar — Seringapatam— Pegwell Bay — no mat- 
ter! 

Arth. Oh! that's the style, is it? By Jove, I've half a mind 
to chance it! But when is this precious scheme of yours to 
come off? 

Sir F. At once ! As soon as I can secure the presence of my 
wife, and old Cosey as a listener ! — he always takes a nap on 
this couch when the coast is c\eiix\— {turns the couch round with 
hack to the audience). There! — now, you take a stroll in the 
grounds— I'll hide behind the window-curtains and give you the 
signal to come in. Be off! (jmshing him up stage). 

Arth. Wait a minute — {counting on his fingers) — "Loveliest 
of women," "conflicting emotions," " agony," "paggony " — no, 
not "paggony," "despair." Let me see, what's the little finger? 

Sir F. The elopement ! 

Arth, All right! 

[^Exit at c. totcards r., counting his fingers. 

Sir F. He's gone at last ! I ought to have been born in an at- 
mosphere of diplomacy to develop my talent for intrigue ! Ha, 
ha, ha! how this "little game " of mine will astonish them! But 
they all want waking up in this house! Cosey's an old hedge- 
hog, all prickles and prejudices! Arthur's— never mind what! 
Myrtle's a crab-apple — pleasant to look at, but occasionally rath- 
er tart to the taste! {here Lady Fritterly enters at door l., un- 
perceived by Sir Felix). As for my wife {hei'e Lady F. stops and 
listens), she's a charming woman; but she has one fault, for which 



134 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

I'd gladly exchange a good many of her virtues — she's so dread- 
fully proper! Shall I take her into my confidence? No I she 
hates jokes— especially mine. How she will stare when Arthur 
opens his batteries f— ha — lia!— run away with my wife! — the no- 
tion's too absurd. 

Lady F, (aside). Indeed! So, so, husband of mine! — (comes 
down and taps Sir Felix on the shoulder). Felix ! 

Sir F. (turning). Grace! (Aside.) I wonder if she overheard ! 

Lady F. You seem merry! — laughing at your own jokes? 
Quite right you should, for nobody else does ! 

Sir F, Thank you! (Aside.) All right! she didn't hear any- 
thing. Perhaps I'd better prepare her, just a little bit, or she 
might petrify poor Arthur with one of her tragedy looks before 
he opens his mouth, and then he'd take to his heels to a certain- 
ty! (Aloud.) By-the-bye, my dear Grace, have you noticed any- 
thing peculiar in young Vallance's behavior lately? 

Lady F. No ; he seems as apathetic as ever ; he may, perhaps, 
have shown a little more attention to me than usual (with inten- 
tion). 

Sir F. (aside). The deuce he has! I wonder what she'll say 
presentlj^ when he comes out with his " agony" and "despair?" 
(Aloud.) I don't mean his behavior to you — but to IMj^rtle! He's 
not half so spooney — I mean attentive — as he used to be, and 
I fear there's a reason for it! (ioit?i significance). 

Lady F. Indeed! 

Sir F. Yes! he may be smitten with somebody else! At his 
age the affections are fickle, volatile — skipping like a flea — 

Lady F. Felix! 

Sir F. I mean sipping like a hee from flower to flower ! Myr- 
tle is young — very young; but even youth like hers may become 
insipid! The love of every precocious boy of fifteen is a woman 
of thirty ! I began at twelve ! 

Lady F, A woman of thirty — my age ! Understand, sir, that 
no woman cares to be reminded of her age when she is turned 



TAKEN FKOM THE FRENCH. 135 

thirty, any more than that she wears false hair! Your remark, 
therefore, is scarcely polite ; but with your wife it appears you 
consider no such politeness necessary ! 

Sir F. Politeness! My dear Grace, what is politeness, after 
all? — merely the gloss of society! I suppose you'll admit that 
the shiny stuff they put on the top of the buns doesn't make 
them taste any the sweeter? 

Lady F. Spare me your absurd similes, and don't mistake flip- 
pancy for wit ! 

Sir F. {aside). That's a dig in the ribs for me! {Aloud.) But 
we are wandering from our subject! Do you think Myrtle loves 
Vallance at all? 

Lady F. I fancy she likes him well enough 1 

Sir F. " Well enough " won't do! She must like him a great 
deal better — as I believe she would if we could only make her 
just a little bit jealous! 

Lady F. Perhaps so— but how? My lady's-maid is no beauty! 
The house- maid's no chicken! The cook's too fat! And there's 
no one else! 

Sir F. No, exactly! {Here Lady Fritterly turns and goes 
up stage.') Are you going out this morning? 

Lady F. Yes, unless you wish for the pleasure of my society 
here ! 

Sir F. Well, it would be a novelty ! 

Lady F. And you promise to spare me the infliction of those 
melancholy exhibitions which you call jokes? 

Sir F. I'll be as dull as an undertaker! Suppose you put a 
few stitches into that smoking-cap of mine, which has been your 
sole occupation in needle-work for the last two years and a half! 

Lady F. Be it so! It's in my room — I'll fetch it! {Aside as 
she goes up stage.) So — so— he's evidently got some ' ' little game " 
on hand — which it will be my business to find out! {Turning to 
Sir F.) Ta! ta! lOoes out at door l. h. 

Sir F. Poor, unsuspecting innocent, it's too bad to take ad- 



136 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

vantage of her simplicity! All! here comes old Cosey for his 
forty winks— better and better — but he mustn't see me! {Hides 
hehitid iDindow-curtain.) 

Enter Colonel at r. ; looks round. 

Col. Nobody here! got it all to myself! That's just what I 
like! I was afraid of meeting Fritterly ! He's a pleasant fellow 
enough in his way, but I prefer being out of his way ! To be 
within the sound of his voice is like living over a printing-office 
— one continual clatter! Now, then, for a little solitary rumina- 
tion! — there's nothing equals it. Look at a cow — how she en- 
joys it! and isn't she the most peaceful of all animals? Who ever 
heard of a cow in a passion? See the touching resignation with 
which she allows herself to be milked ! I wish Arthur had more 
of that docile animal in his composition! he wouldn't talk of 
doing something desperate! Now, then, for a delicious nap! 
( Ties Ms handkerchief over his head and lies down on couch, and no 
longer in sight of audience.') 

Sir F. {peeping from behind curtain). Thank you, colonel, for 
your flattering opinion of me; but I'll be even with you! I won- 
der if he's asleep? {advancing on tiptoe to couch). Yes, sound as 
a top! Now, then, to call in Arthur! Stop a bit! let me first 
perform the part of the benevolent robin in the ' ' Babes in the 
Wood," and cover this " Sleeping Beauty " up ! {Carefully spread- 
ing several antimacassars over Cosey.) There! now for Arthur! 
{Runs to window and waves his hand.) All right; he sees me! 

Enter Vallance at c. 

Arth. Well, you still stick to your plan? 

Sir F. Like a horse-leech. My wife will be here directly ! 

Arth. But Uncle Cosey? 

Sir F. Comfortably tucked in there {pointing to couch), to be 
roused from the land of dreams when the proper time arrives 
with this implement (taking a long feather brush). Sure you've 



TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 137 

got your part in this little domestic drama by heart? Re- 
hearse ! 

Arth. "Loveliest of women," "emotions," "agony," "Se- 
ringapatam," "despair," "PegwellBay" — 

Sir F. Keep on going over it, like the multiplication- table ; 
but hang it, man, don't look as lively as if you were waiting in 
a dentist's back parlor! (Suddenly.) Here comes my wife! {?mr- 
riedly Tdding behind curtains). 

Enter Lady Fritterlt at l. h., carrying a smoking-cap. 

Lady F. {seeing Vallance). Mr. Vallance? 

Arth. Lady Fritterly ! (bowing). 

Lady F. (aside). The ball is about to open! (Aloud.) Won't 
you be seated? (seating herself at l., Arthur moving a chair 
to some distance from Lady F. , and seating himself). A lovely 
morning, is it not? (beginning toicork at the smoking-cap). 

Arth. Delicious! 

Lady F. Quite cool and pleasant ! 

Arth. (aside). I feel quite hot and '^^?^pleasant ! 

Lady F. By-the-bye, do you know where my husband is? 

Arth. (fidgeting on his chair). Not exactly ; but I believe he's 
somewhere or other, or if not there, somewhere else. 

Sir F. {who has peeped out, listening). Idiot! (hiding again). 

Lady F. (observing the movement of the curtain. Aside). He's 
there! traitor! (Aloud.) I'm sure I ought to feel deeply grate- 
ful to him for leaving so agreeable a substitute. 

Sir F. (listening). That ought to encourage him ! 

Arth. {aside). It's time I began, if I'm going to begin at all ! 
(Suddenly, and clasping his hands.) Oh, Lady Fritterly, pardon 
my agitation ; but agitated as I am with the agitations that agi- 
tate me — the agony, the despair — {Aside.) I shall stick fast 
presently ; I know I shall ! 

Sir F. {listening). That's better. 

Arth. But say — say you forgive me ! 



138 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

Lady F. Forgive you! for what? (insinuatingly, and moving 
her chair nearer to Arthur, who draws his hack). 

Arth. For the confession which, alas! {here a very deep sigh) 
I am about to make. 

Lady F. Continue, I beg! 

Arth. Oh, madam, dear madam, dearest madam, if you only 
knew all ! 

Lady F. Hall? A gentleman of your acquaintance? 

Arth. I didn't say Hall, madam ! Let me observe, Lady Frit- 
terly, that this is no subject for levity. 

Lady F. No one would imagine it was, from your counte- 
nance, Mr. Vallance. Its solemnity is positively, painfully lu- 
dicrous ! 

Sir F. {listening). Why the deuce don't he open his batteries? 

Arth. {seeing Sir Felix, icho is making energetic signs to him 
to proceed loith his love-making. Aside). Well, since he will insist 
upon it, here goes! {Aloud, and in an ultra impassioned tone.) 
Loveliest of women!— pardon the apparent insanity of the re- 
mark — I love you ! adore you ! in fact, I rather like you ! Be- 
hold me at your feet ! {flopping down on one knee. Here Sir F. 
reaches over and tickles Cosey with the feather brush, who starts 
up and shows his head above the hack of couch; then, seeing Tie is 
not alone, withdraws his liead again out of sight). 

Lady F. {with pretended emotion). Love me, Mr. Vallance? 
{Aside.) So this is the "little game," is it? {Aloud.) Well, is 
that all? 

Arth. All? {Aside). And pretty well too, I think; what the 
deuce would she have? {Aloud, and very enthusiastically.) No, 
madam, it is not all! I've only just begun! Oh, could you but 
know the conflicting emotions, the agony, the despair — {counting 
on his fingers. Aside.) I forgot the rest! {Aloud.) Say, say that 
you love me in return ! {seizing her hand). 

Lady F. {with pretended emotion). Oh, Mr. Vallance, you're 
too vehement; release my hand! 



TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 139 

Arth. (aside). Release her liand ! Come, I like that ! I wish 
she'd let go of mine {trying to disengage his hand, then catching 
another glimpse of Sir F., loho by signs encourages him to jJroceed. 
Aloud). Release this hand? Not till I've finished! Loved one! 
let us fly ; horses are waiting — flashing express — distant clime — 
Seringapatam — Madagascar — the Sandwich Islands — anywhere. 

Lady F. (toitJi pretended emotion and an affecting faintness). 
A sudden faintness (leaning against Vallance) ; oh, support me ! 

Sir F. (looking out). Holloa ! holloa ! 

Lady F. (looking up in Arthur's/<«c6, and with mock sentimen- 
tality). Oh! Arthur, Arthur! 

Sir F. (behind). Damn it, she calls him Arthur ! 

Arth. (aside). I've been getting on too fast! 

Lady F. {pathetically to Vallance). Spare my blushes ; I guess 
all you would say. 

Arth. (aside). Do you? That's lucky, for Fm regularly 
stumped. 

Lady F. (suddenly grasping Vallance by the wrist and drag- 
ging him forward, almost upsetting him). Listen ! my husband is 
not unkind, though he might be kinder; he is not ill-looking, 
indeed, he might be uglier; but he has one terrible defect. (Sir 
F. here leans forward and listens.) He really flatters himself 
that he possesses a fund of wit; that he is literally running 
over with fun; whereas the poor man really doesn't possess a 
single particle of either. It's very sad, isn't it? 

Arth. Melancholy in the extreme. 

Lady F. And I'm sure, as for humor — 

Arth. He's just about as much in him as an old cab horse! 
(Felix shakes his fist at Vallance.) 

Lady F. But alas ! for every one of his dismal jokes that you 
hear / am doomed to listen to a hundred ! Is it to be wondered 
at, then, that I should pant, crave for a change? — (gradually get- 
ting more excited)— tha.t I should find the temptation you oflier me 
too great to resist? 



140 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

Arth. (aghast). Eh! what? You don't mean to say you con- 
sent? 

Lady F. Of course I do! {icith enthusiasm). What woman 
could resist the Sandwich Islands, and you for a companion ! In 
five minutes expect me here on this spot. Give me but time to 
pack up my jewels, a dozen or two dresses, and a sprinkling of 
hats, and I'll be with you, my Arthur! {Ooing — stops.) You 
won't mind my bringing my favorite little pug-dog, of course 
you won't — {going — stops again) — and a couple of kittens — a 
thousand thanks — and you won't object to putting the parrot 
cage under your arm? I thought not. [^Runs hastily out at l, h. 

{During the above scene Cosey occasionally shows his 
head above the back of the couch and withdraws it 
again.) 

Arth. A parrot cage under my arm all the way to the Sand- 
wich Islands! {Shouting after Lady F.) Stop! madam, Lady 
Fritterly, don't hurry yourself; take your own time — one hour, 
two hours, six weeks, any time you like, Wheugh! here's a 
pretty state of affairs ; catch me running off with another man's 
couple of kittens — I mean wives — no, icife again ! {thrusting both 
hands into his trousers-pockets and walking violently to and fro, then 
flings himself into a chair at l. Sir Felix hurries down and 
drops into a chair at r. Colonel rolls off the end of couch envel- 
oped in antimacassars, and seats himself in chair at c. All pull 
out their white pocket -handkerchiefs, and indulge in extravagant 
business, etc.). 

Arth, {not seeing them). Poor Sir Felix! — a pretty kettle of 
fish he's made of it! I've been too fascinating! 

Sir F. {coming hurriedly down). Don't talk nonsense, sir ! But 
of course this is all a joke! Why don't you say it's all a joke? 

Arth. It's anything but a joke for me!— 211 the way to the 
Sandwich Isles with a parrot cage under my arm !— how would 
you like it? 



TAKEN FKOM THE FRENCH. 141 

Sir F. Pshaw! you carried the thing too far, sir! — a devilish 
deal too far! 

Arth. Come, I like that! I only did what you told me! — 
except that I didn't tear my hair out by handf uls ! 

Col. {counting his pulse). A hundred and* twenty at the very 
least! {tossing a couple of pills into his mouth — then to Vallance). 
Now, sir, what do you mean by making love to Lady Fritterly, 
and proposing an elopement to her? It's scandalous, sir! 

Arth. Not the slightest doubt about it, uncle! but I only did 
it to oblige Sir Felix! 

Col. Oblige Sir Felix by running off with his wife? 

Arth. Yes ! in order to show you what a desperate dog I had 
become, so that you might put me out of the way of temptation 
by consenting to my marriage with Myrtle! But now — {with a 
deep sigh) — that's all knocked on the head! 

SirF. How so? 

Arth. Because, my dear fellow, your wife having accepted, 
I am bound, as a man of honor, to run away with her! 

CoL. {turning to Sir F.). Of course, as a man of honor, we're 
bound to run away with her ! 

Arth. A lady— (^e?'6 Colonel turns to him) — for whom I en- 
tertain the highest respect ! 

Col. {turning to Sir F.). A lady for whom we entertain the 
highest respect! 

Arth. ^Mt— (here Colonel turns again to him)— tor whom 
I don't care two pins! 

CoL. {turning to Sir F.). But for whom we don't care two 
pins! 

Sir F. {fiercely to Colonel). You needn't be insulting by asso- 
ciating Lady Fritterly with that paltry amount of haberdashery ! 

CoL. {feeling his pulse). I shall be in a raging fever presently! 
(two more pills). What's to be done? (Tc* Vallance.) Recollect 
you've got to ascertain when the next train starts for the Sand- 
wich Islands 1 



142 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

Arth. Hang it, Sir Felix! can't you suggest something? I 
look-to you, with your extravagant devices, to extricate me ! 

Col. {to Sir F.). Yes, sir! We insist on your extricating us 
from your extravagant devices ! 

Sir F. Well, I confess I've made a slight mistake this time, 
but all isn't lost. Lady Fritterly will be here directly, when I 
flatter myself she'll hear something to her advantage — {looking 
off at c.) Here comes Myrtle! — couldn't be better! Now. then, 
hide yourselves — both of you ! 

Arth. Certainly not 1 

Col. Certainly not ! 

Arth. Another of your infernal schemes ! If this fails, I real- 
ly shall do something desperate! {During this Sir Felix has 
been edging him up towards curtains, and at last pushes him he- 
hind them at r. ) 

Col. {in a helpless tone). My system won't survive this sort of 
thing! I'm sure it won't. 

Sir F. {hurrying down). Now, colonel, on to your couch be- 
fore Myrtle sees you ! {edging him up toicards couch). 

Col. {resisting). But I don't want to go to sleep! I'm thor- 
oughly wide-awake. 

Sir F. Nonsense ! {forces Colonel on couch, and heaping pil- 
lows over him). 

CoL. {showing Ms head). Tuck me up if you like, but, confound 
it, don't smother me! {keeps rising, Sir Felix pushing him down 
again at each attempt). 

Arth. (putting his head out from curtain). Sir Felix ! 

CoL. {showing his head above couch). Sir Felix ! (Sir F. seizes 
the nearest pillow and throws it at Colonel's head). 

Sir F. Silence ! both of you ! 

Enter Myrtle at door l. h. 
Myrt. {laughing aside as she enters). Ha! ha! poor Sir Felix! 
Grace has told me all, and I am to humor the joke, while she 
watches the result from the conservatory ! 



TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 143 

{Buring the folloioing, until Lady F.'s entrance, the 
Colonel shoios Ms head occasionally above the back 
of the couch, hut tcithdraws it again at a sign from 
Sir Felix.) 

Sir F. {aside). Now for it — {coming doion — takes Myrtle's 
hand, and in an exaggerated tone of grief). Myrtle ! Myrtle ! in me 
you behold a broken-hearted husband ! 

Myrt. {aside). Very well acted, indeed ! {Aloud, and in a 
jyretended tone of commiseration). Broken-hearted? 

Sir F. When I say " broken-hearted," I don't wish you to in- 
fer that the centre of my organic functions is snapped in half 
like a stick of firewood — far from it. Myrtle. But I'm broken- 
hearted for all that ! 

Myrt. Absurd! while you liuve Grace and me to console 
you! 

Sir F. Grace no longer. She has deserted me, and for young 
Vallance! {falling into chair and burying his face in his hands). 

Here Lady F. appears at c, listening. 

Sir F. {peeping out at the corner of his handkerchief, and seeing 
her. Aside). She's there! {Aloud.) Yes, Myrtle, I'm a wretched, 
abandoned man! 

Myrt. You can't be serious? 

Sir F. It's too true ! 

Myrt. What — what do you intend doing? 

Sir F. I did think of shooting the young man !— but it'll be 
a far greater punishment to let him live ! Think what the poor, 
unhappy youth will have to suffer from Grace's ' ' little bits of 
temper!" poor devil! I know what /had to go through. (Lady 
F. shakes her hand at Sir F. ) 

Myrt. But surely you will try and prevent Grace's depart- 
ure? 

Sir F. {indifferently). I think not!— better as it is. I'm getting 
10 



144 TAKEN FROM THE FRENCH. 

used to tlie idea! I confess it was I who advise^ Vallance to 
make just a certain little amount of love to my wife in order to 
excite your jealousy and show you what energy the young man 
was callable of ; but I must confess I was not at all prepared for 
the perfect torrent of impassioned eloquence with which he 
poured forth his unhallowed flame! (^Here Vallance shakes both 
his fists at SirF.) 

Sir F. Besides, Myrtle, dear Myrtle, as you very sensibly ob- 
served just now, shall I not have you to console me? {with ati 
exaggerated tender look). 

Myrt. {alarmed). Me? 

Sir F. Why not? Your lover doesn't care a pin's point about 
you, or he wouldn't have agreed to my plan. My wife has about 
the same amount of affection for me, or she'd have withered him 
up with her scorn at the first go-off. This sort of thing! {putting 
on a haughty and scornful look). 

Myrt. Well, what then? 

Sir F. Can you ask? Oh, my Myrtle! my beloved Myrtle 
— behold me at your feet! (falling on both his knees and seiz- 
ing her hand. Aside.) If Grace stands this, I'm a New Zea- 
lander ! 

Myrt. Monster! {flinging ^in¥TSh\K from her, who falls on his 
face. Lady Fritterly and Vallance hurry down). 

Lady F. So, Sir Felix Fritterly! 

Arth. So, Sir Felix Fritterly! 

Sir F. {getting up quietly and dusting his knees loith his pocket- 
handkerchief. Then suddenly bursting out into a loud laugh). Ha, 
ha, ha ! Surely, my dear Grace, you didn't really think 1 was in 
earnest? 

Lady F, {smiling). As much in earnest, probably, as you 
thought me. (Sir Felix takes her hand and kisses it.) 

Arth. {joyously to Lady F.). Then you don't love me after 
all? You won't insist on my accompanying you to the Sand- 
wich Islands? 



TAIvEN FROM THE FRENCH. 145 

Lady F. (draicingJierselfttp). Mr. Vallauce! (71? Sir Felix.) 
Well, I confess you have the best of the game. 

Sir F. And the last laugh! 

Arth. Myrtle, have I fulfilled your conditions ? have I shown 
some little amount of energy? 

Myrt. Yes, with a vengeance! 

Arth. And may I hope — 

Sir F. Have him now, Myrtle, while you can get him! 

Lady F. Keep her to her promise, Mr. Vallance ! 

Arth. Gladly! But it all depends on my uncle how soon! 

Sir F. Then he shall decide at once ! Turn out, old tortoise ! 
(Wheels conch round to face the audience, and pulling off the anti- 
macassars, etc.) Hang me if he isn't fast asleep! Wake up! 
{tickling Colonel icith the feather brush). 

CoL. All right ! Bring me my shaving- water ! {Sitting up, and 
looking about him.) Holloa! 

Arth. Have you forgotten all about the elopement, uncle? 

Col. Elopement ! Why, you ought to have been half way to 
the Sandwich Islands by this time ! 

Arth. Ha! ha! We've arranged that little matter differently. 

Col. {crustily). Then what the deuce did you wake me up 
for? 

Sir F. To let you go off to sleep again in a more comfortable 
frame of mind. 

Lady F. Come, colonel! Arthur's desperately in love with 
Myrtle. 

Sir F. And Myrtle's over head and ears in love with — 

Myrt. (interrupting him). Felix! 

Sir F. With herself! They only wait your benediction. 

CoL. Bother the benediction! I'll settle a thousand a year on 
them! 

Sir F. {shaking his hand). The most sensible thing you've said 
for a long time ; and now you may go to sleep again as soon ^s 
you like. 



146 TAKEN FROM THE FHENCH. 

Col. Thank you! {Feelmg Ms pulse.) Wmety] That's better 1 
Sir F. But a word at parting here! (To audience.) How ac- 
count for our eccentric behavior? Shall we boldly forestall the 
critics and say at once — 
Myrt. Quite foreign in sentiment— 
Arth. Obviously borrowed from our lively neighbors — 
CoL. {senteiitiously). Possessing all their levity with regard to 
those domestic ties — 

Lady F. {putting her hand over his mouth). In short — Taken 
from the French ! 



CURTAIN FALLS. 



DECLINED— WITH THANEIS. 

Original J^atcc, m Sm 2tct. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS 

Mr. Gritty. 
Captain Taunton. 
Edward Mallingford. 
Mr. Samuel Skrufp 



Spronks's Boy 

Florence Halliday, ) (Gritty's 
Hetty Halliday. ) nieces.) 
Sally, a servant. 



Scene. — Exterior of a villa on the banks of the Thames at Ted- 
dington — house partly seen at l. h. — a low green railing round 
it, in c. of which is a small garden gate — rustic seats, floicer-beds, 
etc., scattered about stage — garden wall at r. h. — door in c. — 
large portable bell hanging over it — bell heard and seen to ring — 
noise of voices in dispute heard outside. 

Skruff {without). Don't tell me! I saw you do it! You 
needn't apologize! What do you say — " You ain't a-going to?" 
Very well ! {another violent ring at bell). 

.Enter Sally /wm house and crossing to r. 
Sally. Who can it be ringing in that style, I wonder? {opens 
door in c. of wall). 

Skruff enters hurriedly, holding his handkerchief to his face ; lie 
wears a white hat, red scarf, white waistcoat, cutaway coat, and 
very gay trousers ; carries an umbrella. 

Skruff {walking up and down). The young vagabond delib- 



148 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 

erately put his toe on a loose stone and squirted half a pint of 
muddy water into my eye ' I saw him do it. He must be an 
old hand at it too, or he wouldn't have taken such a good aim ; 
but, luckily, I spied his name on his basket, and if I don't spoil 
his trade for potatoes in this establishment my name's not Skruff 1 
{Takes out a note-book and writes in it '■ Spronks") There I and 
now, Spronks, my boy, look out for squalls ! Some people may 
like being insulted with impunitj^ — I don't 

Sally {who has been following Skruef to and fro the stage, at 
last stops Mm by the coat-tail). Now, then! what's your business^ 
young man? 

Skruff. "Young man!" 

Sally If you've come for the water-rate — or the gas — or the 
sewers — you must call again! 

Skruff. Water-rate! Gasi Are you aware, young woman, 
that you're addressing a gentleman? 

Sally. You don't mean it? Well, that's about the last thing 
I should have thought of! It only shows one mustn't always 
judge by appearances. 

Skruff (with importance). I happen to be a friend of your 
master's. 

Sally. Well, I am surprised— 'cause master's so very particu- 
lar — then how came you to ring the servants' bell ? 

Skruff {aside). I never shall get out of that habit — been used 
to it so long, I suppose. {Aloud.) Is Mr. Gritty down? 

Sally. Can't say, I'm sure, sir— but I know he ain't up. 

Skruff. Oh! at what time does he usually get up? 

Sally Well, sir, that depends ; but, as a rule, I've observed 
he usually gets up about hi-s usual time. 

Skruff. Does he indeed? (J.sic?^.) There's a flippancy about 
this young woman I don't like. {Aloud.) Perhaps the young la- 
dies, Mr Gritty 's nieces, are down? 

Sally. Can't say positively, sir — but I know they ain't up. 

Skruff {aside). I shall not interrogate this domestic any fur- 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 149 

ther. (Aloud.) Will you inform Mr, Gritty, with my compli- 
ments, that I have called to see him? 

Sally. Cei'tainly, sir — but — 

Skruff (impressively). I repeat, Will you inform Mr, Gritty 
that I have called? Do you think you can manage that? 

Sally. Well, sir, don't you think it would be as well just to 
mention the name? Do you think you can manage that? Shall 
I take your card, sir? 

Skruff. Yes\ (taking out card-case). No! (Aside.) CaYds cost. 
a shilling a hundred. Why should I waste one on people I've 
hardly ever seen. (Aloud. ) You can say — * ' >tr. Samuel Skruff. " 
Do you think you can remember that? 

Sally. "Skruff !" Not likely to forget it, sir — such an aris- 
tocratic name. (^Bringing forward a three-legged rustic seat.) Like 
to sit down, sir? 

GniTTY (Jieard fj'07n Jiouse at jj.). Sally! My shaving water ! — 
hot! all hot! 

Sally. Coming, sir ! [Runs into Twuse l. 

Skruff. Her name's Sally, is it? (toriting in note-hook). Down 
goes Sally along-side of Spronks. (Seats himself and almost tum- 
bles over.) What the deuce does old Gritty mean by having such 
rickety things as this about the premises? — to do a good turn to 
the wooden-leg makers, I suppose ! (Sitting down very cautious- 
ly.) Now let me see what I've comedown here for (consults Tiote- 
book). Here we have it ! (Beads.) "Florence Halliday," "Hetty 
Halliday " — old Gritty's two nieces. The fact is, dad wants to 
see me settled; that is, if I can make a good thing out of it! 
Well, he's just heard on the extreme quiet that one of the young 
ladies is very soon coming in for £10,000! — unluckily he doesn't 
know which of the two — so, on the strength of a former busi- 
ness acquaintance with old Gritty, he has trotted me down here 
to ferret the secret out, and if I get hold of the right scent I am 
to go the entire animal at once !— not likely I should waste any 
time about courtship and all that sort of thing. Not I! Only 



150. DECLINED— AVITH THANKS. 

let me worm out which of the two has got the tin, and I'll mar- 
ry her to-morrow morning! — I can't say fairer than that! {Look- 
ing about Mm.) Rather a niceish sort of place this! must have 
cost something! I hope old Gritty can afford it. Father says 
he was always fond of squandering his money and doing good. 
Doing good! — what is it, after all? — getting up a vainglorious 
reputation at the expense of people who stick to their money ! 
Gritty (without, at l.). In the garden, is he? All right! I'll 

find him! 

E)ite7' Gritty /?'ow villa l. h. 

Gritty, Where is he? (7ie is in Jiis morning-gown, and loears a 
wide-brimmed straw hat— sees Skruff). Ah ! my dear Samuel — 
{seizing and shaking Skruff's hand molently)—({e\\g\\iedi to see 
you, Samuel — for I suppose you are Samuel — eh, Samuel? And 
how's your father, Samuel? 

Skruff. Quite well, thank you, Mr. Gritty. 

Gritty. And your mother, too, Samuel? 

Skruff. Quite well, thank you, Mr. Gritty. 

Gritty. And your sisters — and your uncles — and your aunts 
—and all the rest of 'em— eh, Samuel? 

Skruff. Quite well, thank you, Mr. Gritty. 

Gritty. Bless me, what a time it is since I've seen any of you 
— and to think that your father and I were partners when you 
were a baby— and a precious ugly little brat you were! I don't 
see much alteration in you now, Samuel — I mean, not for the 
better. Yes, " Gritty & Skruff," that was the name of the firm — 
"tailors" — ' Conduit Street" — and a capital business it was, 
too — and is so still, I hope. 

Skruff. Yes; better than ever. Father's made heaps more 
money since you retired ! Trade's altered completely ! 

Gritty. Has it? When I was in it we gave a first-rate arti- 
cle, paid good wages, and were satisfied with a fair profit, 

Skruff. We manage matters better than that n^w ! 

Gritty. How so? 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 151 

Skruff. By adding the profit on to both ends. Putting down 
the wages and putting up the prices. 

Gritty. Well, well, every one to his taste ! Your father chose 
London smoke and slaving on to amass a fortune. / preferred 
fresh air and a moderate competence, and so we parted. You'll 
stay and dine with us to-day, of course? 

Skruff. Thank you, Mr. Gritty. (Aside). 1 put a paper of 
sandwiches in my pocket. Never mind, they'll keep a day or two. 

Gritty, And after dinner you can tell me to what I'm in- 
debted for the pleasure of this visit. {Suddenly). By-the-bye, 
you'll have a glass of wine? Of course you will! {Calling.) 
Sally ! bring in that decanter of port out of the sideboard 1 

Skruff {aside). What extravagance ! 

Gritty. Ha! ha! I remember I never could get your father 
to drink anything stronger than raspberry vinegar drowned in 
water — and what a wretched looking object he was! — the color 
of gingerbread and as thin as a pair of nut-crackers! Do you 
know, Samuel, the more I look at you the more you remind me 
of him? 

Enter SalIjY from house with decanter and wine-glasses 

on a tray, which she places on a small table in c— 
Gritty sits l. and Skruff r. Exit Sally into 



Gritty {youring out a glass of loine ) There, Samuel — tell me 
what you think of that (Skruff sips the wine). Zounds, man, it 
won't hurt you, down with it! (Skruff takes down the loine at 
a gulp, almost choking himself. ) 

Gritty {after tossing off his glass of icine). How the deuce is 
it that my old friend Skruff hasn't found his way down to see 
me all these years? 

Skruff. Well, the fact is, Mr. Gritty, my father has often 
talked of paying you a visit — Thank you, I don't mind taking 
just one more glass {holding out his glass to Gritty, icho fills it — 
Skruff tosses it down.) Let me see — I was saying — 



152 DECLINED— WITH THANKS, 

Gritty. That your father has often talked of paying me a 
visit. 

Skruff. Exactly — but the fact is — Well, since you insist 
upon it, I don't mind just half a glass more {holding out his glass 
— Gritty ^^fe it half full.) 

Gritty. I think you said half a glass? 

Skruff. Did I? — far be it from me to contradict you, but — 
(Gritty laughs and fills up Skruff's glass, which Skruff again 
tosses off. ) 

Gritty. Now you haven't told me why my old friend hasn't 
been down to see me all these years. 

Skruff. Well, the fact is, it's such an awful expense to get 
down here ! 

Gritty. What! from Putney to Teddington— eighteenpence 
second-class return? Surely that wouldn't have ruined him! 

Skruff {aside). If ever old Gritty becomes my uncle-in-law, 
I shall have to put a stop to all these extravagant notions of 
his. 

Gritty. Well, it seems you didn't grudge the expense. 

Skruff. Not a bit of it, because I didn't go to it ! I got a lift 
in our butcher's cart to Richmond — then on to Twickenham 
with a benevolent baker, and walked the rest. 

Gritty {aside). A careful young man this! but I'm afraid my 
old friend has made a trifling mistake in his calculations. He 
used to say it was time enough to make a gentleman when you'd 
made your money — but in my opinion, a man can't begin a bit 
too soon! {Aloud.) Now, Sammy, come and take a stroll round 
the grounds, and I'll introduce you to my nieces, a couple of 
nice girls, Sammy! I hope you're a lady's man {poking him in 
the ribs), ha ! ha ! 

Skruff. Well, as a rtile, the sex is rather partial to me! — ha! 
ha! {giving Gritty a poke in the ribs). 

Gritty. Is it? Well, there's no accounting for taste! 

Skruff. You see, father's well off— and the pickings '11 be 



DECLmED— WITH THANKS, 153 

uncommon good when the old boy pops off !— a great attraction 
to the female mind, Mr. Gritty! 

Gritty. I dare say ; but luckily, my girls will not have to 
look to money as the main thing! {Looking round, and then in a 
confidential wJiisper to Skruff.) Ten thousand pounds, left by a 
rich old aunt ! which may probably fall to — 

Skruff {very eagerly). Yes ! to — to — 

Gritty {in a ichisper). Florence ! 

Skruff {aside). Oh! thaffe the one, is it? (^Writing aside in 
note-hook.) Then down she goes, " Sally! Spronks! Florence!" 

Gritty {continuing). Unless, indeed — 

Skruff {quickly). Unless, indeed, what? 

Gritty. Hetty should turn out to be the lucky one! 

Skruff {aside). Who's to make head or tail out of this? 
{Aloud.) Then you don't exactly know which of the two it is? 

Gritty. No, but I shall, as soon as Hetty comes of age, by 
which time, by-the-bye, both the girls must, according to the 
terms of the will, be married. 

Skruff. Oh! (Aside.) It strikes me this is a dodge to get the 
two girls off with one legacy! {Aloud.) And when does Miss 
Hetty come of age? 

Gritty. In ten days. 

Skruff. Ten days? Eather a short time to provide two hus- 
bands in? 

Gritty. Not at all ! They're already provided !— both of 'em! 

Skruff. Already provided! (Aside.) And this is what I get 
for coming down here and wasting my income in travelling 
expenses! but I'll make a fight of it yet! If they think they're 
going to walk over the course they'll find themselves mis- 
taken! (Aloud.) And what sort of articles are these young 
cliaps, eh ? You can't be too particular in selecting the pattern, 
Mr. Gritty. 

Gritty. Oh, they're all right! — nice gentlemanly young fel- 
lows! 



154 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 

Skruff. Take care, Mr. Gritty ! — I know pretty well what the 
general run of "gentlemanly young fellows" is! — they're un- 
common fond of running long tailors' bills! 

Gritty. Well, you shall judge for yourself — they both dine 
here to-day ! 

Skruff. To-day? {Aside.) Then I haven't much time to lose 
if I'm to cut 'em out! [Aloud.) You haven't told me their names. 

Gritty. Oh! one is a military man, Captain Taunton of the 
Buffs— the other, Edward Mallingford, of the War Office! 

Skruff {aside). Don't remember either of their names— but 
they're sure to be in debt somewhere or other — if I only had 
time to find out lohere! {Aloud.) And pray, which is which des 
tined for, Mr. Gritty? {Aside.) It's important for me to know 
that ! {taking out his pocket-hook on the sly). 

Gritty. Oh, there's no secret about it — Florence is engaged 
to — {Seeing Florence, who enters from house.) Oh! here she 
comes! And Hetty is going to marry — and here she comes {see- 
ing Hetty, icho folloics Florence froin house). 

Gritty. Come here, my dears! (Florence and Hetty corne 
doicn). The son of my old partner, Mr. Samuel Skruff. {Intro- 
ducing.) Mr. Samuel Skruff — my nieces— Miss Florence Halli- 
day, Miss Hetty Halliday. (Florence and Hetty courtesy.) 

Skruff {howing). Firm of Skruff & Son, Miss Florence ! first- 
rate business, Miss Hetty! {To Florence.) Our 13«. trousers is 
a fortune in itself I {To Hetty.) And as to our everlasting wear 
fabric, which we advertise so extensively, it is simply all plun- 
der! {following Hetty and addressing her apart with much ges- 
ticulation, while Florence comes doicn to Gritty). 

Flor. Oh ! uncle, dear ! why do you ask your dreadful tai- 
loring acquaintances here? Do try and get rid of this vulgar 
little man before Captain Taunton comes, or he'll think he's a 
relation! [Retii^es up. 

Skruff {aside). I'm getting on first-rate {joining Florence, 
wJiile Hetty comes down). 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 155 

Hetty {to Gritty). If this odious creature Skruff stays, you 
really must let him have his dinner in the kitchen. I dare say 
he's used to it, Edward would be perfectly horrified at his vul- 
garity. 

Gritty. Can't do that, my dear, but I'll relieve you of his 
presence as much as I can ! {To Skruff.) Now, Samuel, as 
you've made the acquaintance of the ladies, suppose we take a 
turn round the garden! (taking Skruff's an?^), 

Flor. By all means, Mr. Skruff; there's such a beautiful view 
of the river from the lawn, Mr. Skruff! 

Hetty. And we've such a nice boat, Mr. Skruff ! 

Flor. You can paddle yourself about in it tor hours, Mr. 
Skruff! 

Hetty. Yes, the longer the better, Mr. Skruff! 

Gritty. Come along, Sammy ! (ticisting Skruff round — 
Skruff resisting). 

Hetty. Good-bye, Mr. Skruff ! 

Flor. Ta, ta, Mr. Skruff! (Gritty drags Skruff off, strug- 
gling at R.) 

Flor. Well, Hetty? 

Hetty. Well, Florence? 

Flor. Were you ever introduced to such an objectionable in- 
dividual before? 

Hetty. Never! and the creature evidently shows symptoms 
of falling in love. 

Flor. With me? 

Hetty. With you? Don't flatter yourself! with ^?ie .' He was 
on the point of saying something very tender to me when you 
jealously monopolized his attention! 

Flor. Nonsense! I'm sure he was about to declare his pas- 
sion for me when you cruelly dragged him away ! 

Hetty. Then it's quite clear he means to marry one of us! 
If he honors me with the preference, I must refer him to Mailing- 
ford, ha! ha! 



156 DECLINED— WITH THANKS, 

Flor. And if he pops to me, he'll have to settle the matter 
with Captain Taunton, ha! ha! ha! 

Here Captain Taunton's head appears above the icall at n. 

Taunt. Good-morning, ladies! Will you open the door or 
shall I storm the fortress? (Hetty runs and ope7is door r. ; 
Taunton enters). Now, ladies, may I ask the cause of all this 
merriment, and whether there is any objection to my sharing in 
the joke? 

Flor. None at all, Harry ; it simply means that Hetty is 
likely to become "Mrs. Samuel Skruff " vice "Edward Mailing 
ford," cashiered. 

Hetty. Don't be quite so positive, because it isn't quite de- 
cided yet whether it will not be " Samuel Skruff" vice "Henry 
Taunton. " He's a tailor, and a capital hand at cutting out. 

Taunt. A very bad joke that (they all laugh); but of course 
you can't be serious? 

Hetty. That will entirely depend, most gallant captain, on 
whether you are prepared to resign your pretensions! Your 
rival is a regular fire-eater, I can assure you. 

Taunt. And consequently one who would stand any amount 
of — kicking, eh? 

Flor. Ha! ha! But don't you think it's high time we dropped 
the tailor? 

Taunt. Certainly! 

Hetty. Carried nem, con. — "of Samuel Skruff we've had 
enough." 

Flor. But tell me, Harry, have you arranged for the payment 
of the thousand pounds? 

Taunt. Yes ! and upon the most favorable terms. 

Flor. Then, not a single word to uncle on the subject until 
we give you permission. Remember that ! 

Hetty. Well, I must run away. You'll have some little com- 
passion on poor Mr. Skruff, won't you, Florence? ha! ha! ha! 

{Exit laughing into house l. h. 



DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 157 

Taunt. Now, perhaps you'll enlighten me! Who the deuce 
is Skruff? Explain this Skruff. 

Flor. All I know of the interesting object of your inquiry 
is that he is the son of an old friend of my uncle's; that the ob- 
ject of his visit here is to make a conquest, on the shortest pos- 
sible notice, either of Hetty or your humble servant ! 

Taunt, {savagely). Let Skruff beware how he poaches on my 
manor ! 

Gritty {heard witlwut). Now then, Florry, Hetty, where the 
deuce are you? 

Flor. There's uncle calling; come along, Harry, I know how 
anxious you must be to make Mr. Skruff 's acquaintance— ha ! 
ha! 

{Exeunt Florence and Taunton at hack r. 

Enter Skruff hurriedly at hack from l. 

Skruff. Confound old Gritty! Wouldn't let me go till he'd 
dragged me through several acres of lettuces and spring onions; 
consequently the girls have vanished and I've lost my chance. 
Wish to goodness I knew which of the two was to have the 
money {hell rings). 

Skruff {opening gate r. and seeing Spronks's hoy with basket 
on his arm). The youthful Spronks again. Come in ! 

Spronks {entering, then giving the hasket to Skruff). Them's 
the taters and them's the ignuns ! 

Skruff. Of course ; do you suppose I don't know a tater from 
an ignun? {Aside.) I'll see if I can't pump a little information 
out of Spronks! {Aloud.) Been long in the neighborhood, 
Spronks? 

Spronks. Ever since I've been in it, sir! 

Skruff. Have you indeed? — then of course you know some- 
thing about Mr. Gritty, eh? 

Spronks. I know he's a downright trump, and has always got 
a shilling to spare for them as wants it ! — I wants one dreadful 



158 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 

bad just now! {going — stops). Now don't 3^ou go and forget — 
them's the taters — ( going). 

Skruff. Stop a minute!— there's — twopence for you! {gimng 
money to Spronks's boy, who turns to go). Don't be in such a 
hurry. {Confidentially.) I dare say you hear a good deal of tat- 
tle from the servants, eh? {patting boy familiarly on the back) — 
here's another twopence for you! — now about the money that's 
coming to the young ladies — do you happen to have heard 
which of the two is likely to have it? 

Spronks {looking round mysteriously). Well! I don't mind tell- 
ing 3^ou all I know ! 

Skruff. That's right — here's another twopence for you ! Now 
then {taking out his note-book). 

Spronks. Well, sir— I've been making no end of inquiries about 
it from servants and tradespeople, and at last I've found out — 

Skruff {eagerly). Yes! yes! 

Spronks. That I know just as much about it now as before I 
began — ha! ha! ha! {runs up to gate — stops). Don't go and for- 
get which is the taters ! [Runs out. 

Skruff. That boy will end his days in penal servitude ! 

Enter Sally from house. 

Sally. How late that boy is with the vegetables ! 

Skruff. Here they are, Sally — I took 'em in! {giving Sally 
the basket) — them's the taters ! 

Sally. Thank'ee sir {going). 

Skruff. Stop a minute, Sally ! Do you know, I've taken quite 
a fancy to give you a shilling? (Sally hurries back). {Aside.) 
That eagerness to collar the shilling convinces me that sixpence 
would have been enough! {Aloud.) Been long in the Gritty 
family, Sally? 

Sally. Ever since I first came, sir— not before. 

Skruff. That's a remarkable fact ! — find yourself comfortable 
here, eh, Sally? 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 159 

Sally. Nothing much to complain of, sir; twelve pounds a 
year, everything found — except beer — and every other Sun- 
day! 

Skruff {aside). Except beer and every other Sunday ! ( Aloud.) 
And your young ladies, Sally. They treat you kindly, eh? 

Sally. Yes, sir. We get on very comfortably, my young 
Missussesses and me. 

Skruff (aside.) She gets on very comfortably, her young 
Missussesses and she. 

Sally. They give me their old dresses and does their own 
hair. 

Skruff. Oh! they does their own hair, does they? Ah! (wit/b 
intention). It's a nice thing, Sally, to come in for a hatful of 
money, eh? 

Sally. Yes, sir. Ever so much nicer than sixpence? 

Skruff. Ah! Miss Hetty will be a fortunate girl, eh? 

Sally. Think so, sir? 

Skruff. Unless, indeed. Miss Florence should be the lucky 
one? Now tell me, if you were a betting man, which color 
would you bet on? 

Sally. Well, I think I should take ih.Q fair one for choice! 

Skruff (aside). Hetty, evidently. 

Sally, Unless the dark one should happen to come in first— 
but you can't expect me to say any more for sixpence. 

Skruff. Then the sixpence will have to stay where it was! 
(Pockets the coin.) 

Sally. All right ! dare say you want it a deal more than I do ! 
{Going — siojjs, and bobbing a courtesy.) Please sir, which did you 
say was the taters?— ha! ha! [Buns off info house. 

Skruff (looking after her). There goes another candidate for 
penal servitude! This sort of thing won't do. I m?^«f make up 
my mind one way or the other, so I'll make a bold stroke for 
Hetty and chance it! {During this speech Hetty has entered at l. 
— stops and listens.) 

n 



160 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 

Hetty. So, so ! Then I must prepare myself for an equally 
bold resistance {coming forward humming a tune). 

Skrvff (seeing he?'). Ah, Miss Hetty! 

Hetty. Ah, Mr. Skruff! 

Skruff. Do you know, Miss Hetty, I'm quite pleased with 
this little place of your uncle's!— there's something about it— a 
sort of a kind of a— umph ! 

Hetty. Yes. I have noticed myself that there's something 
about it — a sort of a kind of a — (imitating Skruff). 

Skruff. In short, it's the sort of place one could live in alto- 
gether — I shouldn't mind it myself— hut not alone ! (with a ten- 
der look at Hetty). 

Hetty (loith 'pretended senti'mentality). Of course not, Mr. 
Skruff! "Who would inhabit this bleak world alone?" You 
would require a companion — with beauty — amiability — and — 

Skrvyf {sentiinentally). Ten thousand pounds! (Aside.) Neat- 
ly suggested! 

Hetty. Ten thousand pounds! Why, that's a fortune, Mr. 
Samuel ! 

Skruff (aside). 3fr. Samuel/ She's coming round! By Jove! 
I'll risk it — neck or nothing, here goes! (suddenly seizing Hetty's 
hand.) If you had ten thousand pounds. Miss Hetty — do you 
think you could be happy with a gentleman like me? (very sen- 
timentally). 

Hetty (aside). A positive declaration ! (?iiding her face in her 
handkerchief to conceal her laughter — then trying to release her 
hand). Release my hand! — I beg! — I implore! If Captain 
Taunton should see us — 

Skruff (aside). Captain Taunton! — the fellow that old Gritty 
was talking about! — after Hetty, is he? That's a sure sign the 
money lies in this quarter! (Aloud.) Ah, Miss Hetty — these mil- 
itary gents seldom come to any good! — I should strongly advise 
you to give him up ! I should indeed ! — if he's a gentleman, he 
won't make any fuss about it! 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 161 

Hetty. Ah, Mr. Skruff, you don't know the captain — his very 
quietest moments are characterized by the most savage ferocity. 
Tell me (seizing his arm), can you shoot? 

Skruff. Well, I used to be considered quite a crack shot at 
the bull's-eye! 

Hetty. At the Wimbledon meeting? 

Skruff. No! at the end of a barrow — for nuts! 

Hetty. That's nothing! The captain can snuff a candle with 
a bullet at thirty paces ! 

Skruff. Can he? but doesn't he find that rather an incon- 
venient substitute for snuffers? 

Taunt, {heard idthout at r). Good-bye, then, for the present. 

HwTTY (starting , and 'pretending alarm). Ah! his voice — my 
absence has excited his suspicions — should he find us together 
we are lost! Break the painful intelligence to him gently— but 
be firm, Samuel, be firm! {Aside.) Now to tell Florence. 

{^Runs into house l. 

Skruff. On second thoughts, perhaps I'd better not break 
the painful intelligence to him on our first interview, it would 
hardly be delicate. Besides, I really shouldn't like to commit 
an act of violence on Gritty 's premises — it wouldn't be the right 
thing to do! Here he comes! I'll pretend not to notice him! 
(Seats himself at back at l. , atid taking out a neiospaper, which he 
prete)uls to read.) 

Enter Captain Taunton at back from r. 

Taunt, {not seeing Skruff). Yes ! There is no doubt about it, 
it certainly was risking a good deal to raise that one thousand 
pounds ; but who could resist Florence's entreaties. One thing 
is quite certain— Mr. Gritty must know nothing about it. 

Skruff (watching him over his newspaper). Old Gritty must 
know nothing about ichatf 

Taunt. The old gentleman has such a horror of accommoda- 
tion-bills! 



162 DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 

Skrupf. Oh! oh! accommodation-bills, eh? That's your lit- 
tle game, my fine fellow, is it? I've got him safe enough now, 
and can split upon him at any time. I wonder what he's read- 
ing? {Seeing Taunton, rises and comes cautiously down heliind 
Mm to look over his shoulder at the letter — stumbles.) 

Taunt, (looking round — aside). The tailor ! {Aloud.) Perhaps 
you would like to read my private letters, sir? 

Skrufp. I should, very much — I mean no, of course not. 

Taunt. What were you going to say, Mr. — Stuff? 

Skrufp. Skruff! {Aside.) I wish Miss Hetty had broken the 
"painful intelligence " to him herself. I don't relish the idea of 
being " snuffed out " at thirty paces. Never mind, I'll risk it. 
{Aloud.) Captain Taunton, I believe? 

Taunt. Well, sir, what then? {angrily). 

Skrufp. Now don't be jumping down my throat because I've 
an unpleasant duty to perform. In a word — I deeply regret to 
inform you — 

Taunt, (fiercely). You, sir? 

Skrupf. I mean. Miss Halliday begs me to inform you — 

Taunt, {imj^etuously). Go on! 

Skrufp. I'm going to go on, sir. 

Taunt. Miss Halliday begs you to inform me— what? 

Skrufp. That when she accepted you as a friend of the fam- 
ily she had no intention whatever of accepting you as a husband 
— and note, she thinks — I mean, imagines — I should say, believes, 
she's made a slight mistake, because she finds she likes some- 
body else better. 

Taunt. What 1 {seizing Skrufp by the collar and. shaking 
Mm.) 

Skrufp. It's no use giving way to your "savage ferocity," 
sir; if you don't believe me, you'd better go and ask Miss Het- 
ty yourself. 

Taunt, {leaving hold of Qkiiuff). Hetty .f Did you say Hetty? 
{Aside.) One of her practical jokes evidently. Ha! ha! ha! 



DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 163 

{Pulls out Ills handkercMef and uses it to mnceal Ms laughter, and 
at the same time drops the letter on stage. 

Skrufp (m a compassionate tone to Taunton, icho has still got 
his handkerchief to his face, and patting him commiseratingly on 
the back). Now don't go and make yourself miserable because 
another fellow has stepped into the ten thousand pounds! 

Taunt, {aside). The mercenary rascal! I see Hetty's "little 
game " now. 

Skruff. Keep your pecker up, noble captain. I didn't mean 
to cut you out, upon my life I didn't! 

Taunt, {aside). I'll humor the fellow. {Aloud, and with a 
very deep sigh.) Well, Mr. — Mr. — 

Skruff. One moment (2rresents card to Taunton). 

Tajji^t. {reading). " Skruff— Tailor— Conduit Street. Orders 
promptly attended to." Your information, Mr. Skruff, I confess, 
is not a pleasant one ! Far from it, Mr. Skruff ! {gives a wry 
deep sigh). 

Skruff. Now don't go on sighing like that, or you'll be doing 
yourself some frightful internal injury! 

Taunt. Hetty will make you a good wife, Mr. Skruff, and a 
good mother to the little Skruff s, Mr. Skruff. Might I ask to be 
allowed to stand godfather to your first, Mr. Skruff? 

Skruff. My dear sir, you shall stand godfather to the first 
dozen or two if j^ou like ! 

Taunt. Thank you, Mr. Skruff — but alas! alas! what is to be- 
come of the poor abandoned, broken-hearted Taunton ? {anotJier 
very deep sigh). 

Skruff. Well ! I don't like to advise — but I really don't see 
why you shouldn't chuck yourself in the water, especially if you 
can't swim ! 

Taunt, {very quietly). Drown myself — not I! I shall at once 
propose to the other sister! 

Skruff {aghast). What! {seeing letter on stage, and putting his 
foot on it). You mean to propose to Miss Florence? 



164 DEOLINED— WITH THANKS. 

Taunt. Yes! this very day, this very hour! I suppose I shall 
be safe in that quarter? You won't have the heart to molest me 
there, Mr. Skruff. {Asids.) Now to let Mallingford know about 
this wretched little interloper ! I shall be sure to meet him com- 
ing from the station! {Aloud, and grasping Skrufp's hand.) 
Good-bye, Mr. Skruff! you have acted nobly! — nobly! — nobly, 
Mr. Skruff ! [^Shaking his hand violently, and going off at gate r. 

Skkupf. Havel? Don't be too sure about that! Wheugh! I've 
got the most excruciating attack of pins and needles all up my 
leg in trying to hide this letter! {Picks it up.) The question is, 
ought I to read it? Of course I ought, or how should I know 
what's in it. Here goes! {Reading letter.) "Dear Harry, I can 
raise the one thousand pounds on our joint acceptance, for 
a term — but for Heaven's sake conceal this from Mr. Gritty. 
Yours, Teddy." Teddy!— Teddy what? Teddy who? Yes; I 
remember now — I've got him down somewhere! {looking at his 
memorandum-hook). Here he is ! — " Edward Mallingford " — he's 
old Gritty 's other young man! Here's a bit of luck! — I've got 
both the young chaps in m}^ clutches now. Ha! ha! — but stop 
a bit — {reflecting). Isn't it rather strange, if the captain was 
really in love with Hetty, that he should give her up so quietly? 
— then the eagerness with which he bound me down not to cut 
him out with Florence. What if the money comes to her after 
all! Luckily, I haven't quite committed myself yet— and what's 
more, I won't. 

Florence has entered from house and runs down eagerly to 
Skruff. 

Flor. {seizing Skruff's hand). Hetty has told me all — all, 
Mr. Skruff. I cordially congratulate you on your conquest ! 
{shaking Skruff's hand molently). 

Skruff {trying to remove his hajid). I really don't exactly un- 
derstand — {Aside.) A clear case— they think they've hooked 
me. If Hetty had got the money they wouldn't be so precious 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 165 

polite ! (Aloud.) I'm afraid, miss, we're laboring under some 
little mistake ! 

Flor. Mistake ? Not at all ! Did you not propose to my 
sister? 

Skruff. Propose? You mean pop? Ha! ha! ha! Excuse 
my laughing— but it really is so very ridiculous! 

Flor. Excuse me, Mr. Skruff— but your merriment is an in- 
sult. Poor Hetty! Fm afraid she'll be quite broken-hearted! 

Skruff (aside). Another broken-hearted one! It runs in the 
family ! 

Flor. Besides, even if Captain Taunton resigns in your fa- 
vor — 

Skruff. He Z^as/ in the handsomest manner! He's even pro- 
posed to stand godfather to our first! but, says I, " No, Taunton, 
my boy, certainly not," says I, " I will not blight your young 
life, Taunton, my boy," says I. 

Flor. How generous of you ! (Aside. ) The little hypocrite ! 

Skruff (aside). If Hetty doesn't get the money, Florence 
must! That's logic, so here goes! (Aloud.) Miss Florence, I 
hope you will pardon the liberty I am about to take— 

Flor. A liberty! from you— you whom I hope I may look 
upon as ii friend! (with pretended earnestness). 

Skruff. Deai^est miss — you may ! 

Flor. Then I may venture to ask your advice on a matter of 
the most vital importance to me ! 

Skruff (aside). Now for Teddy! If Teddy doesn't catch it 
hot it'll be no fault of mine! So look out for squalls, Teddy! 
(Aloud.) I think I can guess the subject you are about to refer 
to — a certain Mr.— Mr. — (taking a side look at his me7noranduni- 
6(?o^)— Edward Mallingford? 

Flor. Exactly! — do you know liim? 

Skruff. Personally, no !— professionally, as the signer of ac- 
commodation-bills by the bushel, intimately! 

Flor. Mr. Mallingford? There must be some mistake! 



166 DECLrN"ED— WITH THANKS 

Skkupp. Yes! it was a gigantic mistake on your old fool of 
an uncle's part to admit him here at all ! If he'd had a grain of 
common-sense he'd have seen that he only came here after your 
ten thousand pounds. 

Flor. {smiling). My ten thousand pounds ! 

Bkrjjyy {aside). She doesn't deny it! Rapture! 

Flor. {drawing a, long sigh). Ah! Mr. Skruff — what dangers 
surround the hapless girl destined by cruel fate to be an heir- 
ess! 

Skruff {in a sympathizing toiu). It must be very unpleasant! 
though I never was an heiress myself ! 

Flor. "Would that all men were as disinterested as you, sir! 

Skruff. True, Miss Florence — for my part, if I were to marry 
a young lady with ten thousand pounds — 

Flor. You'd settle it all on herself— I knoio — I'm sure you 
would! The quiet charm of a country life would be unspeaka- 
ble rapture to ;p3u! To help her to tend her flowers — to feed 
her poultry— to grow her own currants and gooseberries — 

Skruff. And her own eggs— and new-laid butter! 

Flor. But alas ! Mallingford is my uncle's choice, and our 
union is irrevocable ! 

Skruff. It wouldn't break your heart, then, to part with Ted- 
dy! because if you really do feel a sort of a sneaking kindness 
for me, I'll do all I can for you, I will indeed. 

Flor. {with pretended emotion). Oh, Mr. Skruff! — but, of course 
— my uncle — ah! he's here — \^Runs off hastily into house. 

Skruff. She refers me to her uncle! nothing could be plain- 
er! I'll soon obtain his consent*by enlightening his weak mind 
as to Master Teddy and his friend the captain ! 

Enter Gritty at back. 

Gritty. Oh, here you are, Sammy ! What the deuce have 
you been doing with yourself? 

Skruff {aside). I must give old Gritty a lesson! {Aloud.) 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 167 

Mr. Gritty, allow me to remark, with the greatest possible re- 
spect, that j'^ou're an infant! a positive infant! 

Gritty {looking at him — aside). Samuel's been at the sherry! 

Skruff. Yes, Gritty! there's a simple confiding innocence 
about you that's positively pitiable! 

Gritty {angrily). Gently, Samuel, gently! What the deuce 
are you driving at? 

Skruff. In one word — what do you know about this Cap- 
tain Taunton and Teddy? 

Gritty. Teddy! who the deuce is Teddy? 

Skruff. Mr. Edward Mallingford. 

Gritty. That they're as pleasant, gentlemanly a couple of 
young fellows as you'll find in England ! What have you to say 
against them, eh? 

Skruff. Only this, that you've been done, Gritty— decidedly 
done! 

Gritty {aside). He decidedly lias been at the sherry! {Aloud.) 
Your proofs, Mr. Skruff ! {angrily). 

Skruff. Nothing easier! Read that {hands letter to Gritty). 

Gritty {reading). What's this ? Can I believe my eyes ? 
Young men of good family — with handsome allowances — rais- 
ing the wind in this disreputable manner! It's disgraceful! — 
then to keep me in the dark — it's petty ! paltry I contemptible ! 
(loalking iq) and doion). 

Skruff {following him). That's what / say! It's petty! pal- 
try! contemptible! 

GRiTTy {suddenly turning and facing Skruff). Look here, 
Skruff! if you've no particular desire to be strangled, you'll hold 
your tongue! I'll break off both engagements at once! 

Skruff. That's right! 

Gritty. They shall neither of them dine here to-day! 

Skruff. Right again ! 

Gritty {turning sai^agely on him and shouting). Will you hold 
your infernal tongue ! {Shouting.) Florence! Hetty! 



168 DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 



Enter Florence and Hetty running from hoxtm — Sally 
foUx)wing. 

„ ■ [■ What's the matter, uncle? 
Hetty. ) 

Gritty. The matter, this! Florence, you'll give up Taunton ! 

Hetty, Mallingf ord no longer visits here ! 

TT- ' !• Oh, uncle ! 
Hetty. ) 

Skruff {a%ide to Florence). Rely on me. Til never forsake 
you! 

Hetty. But, uncle dear ! 

Skruff {cmde to her). Never mind! /won't give up. 

Hetty. You forget that if we're not both married by the time 
I come of age — 

Flor. "We shall neither of us get the money ! 

Gritty {angrily). The money may go to the deuce"! 

Skruff. No! don't say that, Gritty ! {Aside to Mm.) I'll take 
one of 'em! I don't care which! {Aside.) What a pity I can't 
marry them both ! {Bell rings; Sally runs and opens gate; en- 
ter Taunton and Mallingford). 

Gritty. Here they both are! Captain Taunton {bowing dis- 
tantly). I regret to inform you that the engagement between you 
and my niece is broken off ! To you, Mr. Mallingford, I can only 
repeat the same. 

■ [ {astounded). You surely must be joking, sir. 

Skruff {aside). Is he though! Stick to 'em. Gritty! stick to 
'em I 

Taunt, {to Gritty). We require to know your reasons, sir. 

Skruff. Natural enough. By all means, Gritty. Give the 
gentlemen your reasons. Gritty. 

Gritty. In a word, then, this gentleman {pointing to Skruff) 
informs me — 



DECLINED— WITH THANKS. 169 

Sk-rttff (sho^lt^ng). No sucli thing ! I deny it! {Aside to Grit- 
ty.) Don't go and drag me into it. 

Gritty {handing letter to Mallingford). Do you know this 
letter, sir? 

Malling. {starting). By all that's unfortunate, Taunton, my 
letter to you! 

Taunt. About the one thousand pounds? 

Gritty. You confess it, then? 

Malling. One moment, sir! Knowing your objections to 
raising money on bills, my friend Taunton and I would certainly 
rather you had not seen this letter, but fortunately in this case 
no bill was necessary. You do not appear to have read the whole 
of the contents. {Opens letter, and presenting it to Gritty.) Please 
to turn over the page. 

Gritty {turning over page of letter, and reading to himself). 
What's this? Holloa, Samuel, you never told me to turn over! 

Skruff. Turn over ? What ! at your time of life ! You 
couldn't have done it ! 

Gritty {reading letter). ' ' My brother has just returned to town, 
and I have got a check for the amount we require, so that the 
confidence of our kind old friend, Mr. Gritty, will not be abused 
after all." Bravo! I say, Samuel, ain't you glad to hear this, eh? 
{slapping Skruff on the back). 

Skruff. Intensely! {Aside.) I wish I was well out of it! 

Gritty {to Taunton and Mallingford). So you don't owe 
a penny? 

Taunt. Not one farthing. 

Gritty. Then I apologize for my unjust suspicions — although 
I should like to know what you young fellows could want with 
one thousand pounds. 

Flor. Nothing very serious, uncle. 

Hetty. Merely a commission which these gentlemen have 
undertaken for Florence and me. 

Gritty. For you ? 



170 DECLIKED— WITH THANKS. 

Flor. Yes ; the purchase of the meadow behind the orchard, 
which you have always been so anxious to possess. 

Hetty. To be our joint gift out of our fortune, uncle, when I 
came of age. 

Gritty. Bless their affectionate little hearts! (kissing Floh- 
ENCE and Hetty). Doesn't this warm one up, eh, Sammy? 

Skruff. Y-e-8— I do feel warmish! (Aside.) I'm in a raging 
fever! (Aloud.) Then I suppose, Mr. Gritty, there need be no 
further concealment as to which of the two (pointing to Flor- 
ence and Hetty) is the lucky heiress. (Aside.) It's as well to 
know. 

Gritty. That's all settled long ago — the ten thousand pounds 
will be divided equally beween them. 

Skrupp. Oh! (Aside.) Well, after all, five thousand pounds 
less, that idiotic meadow is worth having; and I am tolerably 
secure in the affections of both heiresses — I'm pretty sure of 
getting one. (Beckoning aside to Taunton.) I believe, sir, I am 
correct in coming to the conclusion that your affections are fixed 
on the younger of Mr. Gritty's nieces, Miss Hetty? 

Taunt. Sir! (indignantly). 

Skruff. Now don't fly out in that way — it's perfectly im- 
material to me — you can have your choice — nothing can be fairer 
than that! 

Taunt. Before I reply to t/'^?^'' "question, Mr. — Mr. — 

Skruff. Skruff. 

Taunt. Mr. Skruff — perhaps you'll be good enough to answer 
mine— how did you come to open a letter addressed to another? 

Skruff. How did I open it? In the usual way, I assure you. 

Taunt. For which I have half a mind to give you a sound 
horsewhipping! 

Skruff. My dear sir, as long as you have only half a mind, 
and keep to it, you may threaten me as much as you think prop- 
er. Besides, sir, as I flatter myself that Miss Florence honors 
me with her partiality — (boicing to Florence). 



DECLINED — WITH THANKS. 171 

Flor. Excuse me, Mr. Skruff ! Flattered by your proposal, 
but compelled to decline {courtesy ing very loio and giving her 
hcuul to Taunton). 

Skruff {aside). That's no go. {Aloud.) How silly of me, to 
be sure! Of course, when I said Miss Florence I meant Miss 
Hetty {about to advance). 

Malling. {meeting him). Pardon me, Mr. Skruff! I have a 
prior claim {holding out his hand to Hetty). Dear Hetty! 

Hetty {giving her hand to Mallingford). Dear Teddy! 

Skruff {aside). Another no go. 

Gritty. Why, Sammy, what a desperate fellow you are — 
have you been falling in love with both my girls? 

Taunt. With neither, Mr. Gritty — but desperately smitten 
with their ten thousand pounds ! 

Gritty. Oh! oh! that was your little game, eh, Sam? 

Skruff. I'll trouble you not to 8am me, Mr. Gritty! 1 beg 
you to understand that I'm not going to stand 8am any longer! 
{drawing himself uj)). I sha'n't stop to dinner, Gritt}'' ! 

All {with pretended regret, and in a very appealing tone). Oh, 
don't say so ! 

Skruff. But I do say so. 

Sally (aside to him). Now you haven't told me which is the 
taters, sir! 

Skruff. Open the gate, young woman ! (Sally goes to open 
gate.) Good - morning, Mr. Gritty! Good morning, ladies! I 
hope you'll be happy — though I wouldn't give much for your 
chance. {Advancing rapidly to the front.) After all, perhaps I've 
had a narrow escape — who knows but I may have cause to be 
grateful that I have been declined — 

All {icitJi loic courtesies and bows). With thanks ! 

As Skruff hurries up, accompanied icith repeated bows 
and courtesies, the 

CURTAIN FALLS. 



BEN-HUR: A TALE OF THE CHRIST. 



Bv Lew. Wallace, New Edition, pp. 552. 16mo, 
" Cloth, $1 50. 

Anything so startling, new, and distinctive as the leading feature of this 
romance does not often appear in works of fiction. . . . Some of Mr. Wal- 
lace's writing is remarkable for its pathetic eloq^ience. The sw^enes de- 
scribed in the New Testament are rewritten with the power and skill of 
an accomplished master of style. — iV. Y. Thyies. 

Its real basis is a description of the life of the Jews and Romans at the 
beginning of the Christian era, and this is both forcible and brilliant. . . . 
We are carried through a surprising variety of scenes ; we witness a sea- 
fight, a chariot-race, the internal economy of a Roman galley, domestic in- 
teriors at Antioch, at Jerusalem, and among the tribes of the desert ; pal- 
aces, prisons, the haunts of dissipated Roman youth, the houses of pious 
families of Israel. There is plenty of exciting incident ; everything is 
animated, vivid, and glowing. — N. Y. Tribune. 

From the opening of the volume to the very close the reader's interest 
will be kept at the highest pitch, and the novel will be pronounced by all 
one of the greatest novels of the day. — Boston Post. 

It is full of poetic beauty, as though born of an Eastern sage, and there 
is sufficient of Oriental customs, geography, nomenclaturCj etc., to greatly 
strengthen the semblance. — Boston Commonwealth. 

"Ben-Hur" is interesting, and its chai*acterization is fine and strong. 
Meanwhile it evinces careful study of the period in which the scene is laid, 
and will help those who read it with reasonable attention to realize the 
nature and conditions of Hebrew life in Jerusalem and Roman life at 
Antioch at the time of our Saviour's advent. — Examiner, N. Y. 

It is really Scripture history of Christ's time clothed gracefully and 
delicately in the flowing and loose drapery of modern fiction. . . . Few late 
works of fiction excel it in genuine ability and interest — iV. Y. Graphic. 

One of the most remarkable and delightful books. It is as real and 
warm as life itself, and as attractive as the grandest and most heroic 
chapters of history. — Indianapolis Journal. 

The book is one of unquestionable power, and will be read with un- 
wonted interest by many readers who are weary of the conventional novel 
and romance. — Boston Journal. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

f^" The above ivork sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the United States 
or Canada, on receipt of the price. 



CONSTANCE F. WOOLSON'S NOVELS. 



EAST ANGELS. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25. 

ANNE. Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25. 

FOR THE MAJOR. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. 

CASTLE NOWHERE. 16mo, Cloth, $1 00. {A New 
Edition^ 

RODMAN THE KEEPER. Southern Sketches. 16mo, 
Cloth, $1 00. (^ New Edition.) 

There is a certain bright cheerfulness in Miss Woolson's writing which 
invests all her characters with lovable qualities. — Jewish Advocate, N. Y. 

Miss Woolson is among our few successful writers of interesting mag- 
azine stories, and her skill and power are perceptible in the delineation of 
her heroines no less than in the suggestive pictures of local life. — Jewish 
Messenger, N. Y. 

Constance Fenimore Woolson may easily become the novelist laureate. 
— Boston Olohe. 

Miss Woolson has a graceful fancy, a ready wit, a polished style, and 
conspicuous dramatic power; while her skill in the development of a 
story is very remarkable. — London Life. 

Miss Woolson never once follows the beaten track of the orthodox nov- 
elist, but strikes a new and richly loaded vein which, so far, is all her 
own ; and thus we feel, on reading one of her works, a fresh sensation, 
and we put down the book with a sigh to think our pleasant task of read- 
ing it is finished. The author's lines must have fallen to her in very 
pleasant places ; or she has, perhaps, within herself the wealth of woman- 
ly love and tenderness she pours so freely into all she writes. Such books 
as hers do much to elevate the moral tone of the day — a quality sadly 
wanting in novels of the time. — Whitehall Review, Loudon. 



Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 

US'" Harpku & Broth KKs will send the above works hy mail, postage prepaid, to 
any part of the United States or Canada, on receipt of the price. 



flBAgVi? 



